MORAL OP FLOWERS. 
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ye are nourished and fed; unlike those of us 
mortals, too often degraded by animal impulses 
and unworthy motives. 
“ Sweet nurslings of the vernal skies, 
Bathed in soft airs and fed with dew, 
What more than magic in you lies 
To fill the heart’s fond view! 
Relics are ye of Eden’s bowers, 
As soft, as fragrant, and as fair, 
As those that crown’d the sunshine hours 
Of happy wanderers there 1” — Keeble. 
Beautiful are ye, exceedingly beautiful ! and 
numberless are the strains of deep impassioned 
eloquence, embodying “ thoughts that breathe 
and words that burn,” to testify of the admira¬ 
tion ye have excited in the breasts of those who 
worship that power,— 
“ Which tunes the lip to songs and sighs, 
And makes the heart a haunted shrine.”—L. E. A. 
Well ha«e the poets sung of your loveliness 
of your fragrance, and of your benign influence. 
Grave divines have made sermons on you, and 
expounded your holy teachings for the edifica 
tion of man,— 
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