212 THE ASSOCIATION] S OF FLOWERS 
Sweet Woodruff. 
As sullenly swept the wintry wind, 
With moanings loud, through the hollow trees, 
The withered foliage rustled behind. 
Borne from the oak by every breeze ; 
And it lay round the trees in a massy heap, 
While the seeds of the flowers were in earth asleep. 
But soon as the cheerful month of May 
Threw over earth her mantle green. 
There sprang a stem, whose starry array 
In clusters around the oak was seen ; 
And a fragrance pure as the breathings of morn. 
From the delicate flow ’ret was hourly borne. 
Lovely as innocence was that flower, 
Which formed a ruff for the stately tree, 
And fitted to grace the verdant bower 
Where it grew in spotless purity ; 
Yet it sprang from the brown and withered leaves, 
As a gem of bright beauty from earth’s dark caves. 
A lady was lingering in the wood. 
To taste the delights of fragrance and shade, 
And saw the lowly plant as she stood. 
And of its white flowers a wreath she made ; 
And she wore it all day, till the evening skies 
Bore the rich pearly streaks of the sunset dyes. 
Lightly she cast her garland away ; 
Yet she marked the fragrance that it threw 
Was stronger than when, at early day. 
She found it all besprinkled with de\v ; 
And the thought of a friendship came to her mind, 
Which time had but strengthened and refined. 
She had soon forgot her floral wreath 
If from the chamber where it had been 
There had not issued as sweet a breath 
As when it lay in its withered green ; 
For the scent, like a memory, lingered on, 
Of a gentle voice whose loved owner was gone. 
A. P. 
