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DIRGE OF FLOWERS. 
L 1 N E S ; 
BY THE IiEV. DR. BOOKER, 
WRITTEN ON PLACING A LILY OF THE VALLEY 
IN THE DEAD HAND OF A LOVELY CHILD, 
WHILE LYING IN HER COFFIN. 
Thou sleeping innocent! to thee I bring 
This purest offspring of the new-born spring ! 
While to thy spirit by thy God is given 
A palm of glory, in the realms of heaven. 
THE WORM AND THE FLOWERS. 
MONTGOMERY. 
You’re spinning for my lady, worm ! 
Silk garments for the fair ; 
You’re spinning rainbows for a form 
More beautiful than air. 
When air is bright with sunbeams, 
And morning mists arise, 
From woody vales and mountain-streams. 
To blue autumnal skies. 
You’re training for my lady, flower ! 
\ ou’re opening for my love; 
