THE FLOWER GARDEN. 
WORDSWORTH. 
Tell me, ye Zephyrs! that unfold. 
While fluttering o’er this gay Recess, 
Pinions that fanned the teeming mould 
Of Eden’s blissful wilderness. 
Did only softly-stealing Hours 
There close the peaceful lives of flowers ? 
Say, when the moving Creatures saw 
All kinds commingled without fear, 
Prevailed a like indulgent law 
For the still Growths that prosper here ? 
Did wanton Fawn and Kid forbear 
The half-blown Rose, the Lily spare 1 
Or peeped they often from their beds 
And prematurely disappeared, 
Devoured like pleasure ere it spreads 
A bosom to the Sun endeared 1 
If such their harsh untimely doom, 
It falls not here on bud or bloom. 
All Summer long the happy Eve 
Of this fair Spot her flowers may bind, 
c 
