WILD FLOWERS. 121 
Hedge-Row Flowers. 
Here along the hedge-row side 
Flow’rets of all colors hide; 
Here the daisy, white and red, 
Lifts to heaven its starry head; 
Here the primrose, meek and pale, 
Weeps to hear the lily’s tale, 
How, in former days and bowers, 
Zephyr, stealing ’mid the flowers, 
Wooed her as he swept along, 
With a sweet and balmy song; 
Sweet, oh very sweet, and then 
Left her in a lonely glen, 
Near a river’s glassy brim, 
Till her cheek grew pale and dim; 
And her beauty, once as bright 
As the crimson rose’s light, 
Passed away like summer’s beam 
From the surface of a stream !— 
Here the “ little calendine,” 
