158 
TULIP. 
The Queen of flow’rs; but blooming by thy 
side 
Her thousand leaves that beams of love adorn, 
Her throne surrounded by protecting thorn, 
And smell eternal, form a ju3ter claim, 
Which gives the heaven-born Rose the lofty 
name, 
Who having slept throughout the wintry 
storm, 
Now through the op’ning buds displays her 
smiling form. 
ON PLANTING A TULIP ROOT. 
MONTGOMERY. 
Here lies a bulb, the child of earth, 
Buned alive beneath the clod, 
Ere long to spring by second birth 
A new, and nobler work of God. 
’Tis said that microscopic power 
Might through its swaddling folds descry 
The infant-image of the flower. 
Too exquisite to meet the eye. 
This vernal suns and rains shall swell, 
Till from its dark abode it peep 
