67 
Snowball. — c I look to things above. 
This graceful flower which lifts its stately head above the sur¬ 
rounding beauties of the garden, is seldom used in a Bouquet, unless 
to ornament a room. It attracts our attention to its clusters of 
pure white blossoms, by the expression of hope and adoration it 
appears to wear, while looking up in proud confidence to Heaven. 
The fairest flower that decks the field, 
The brightest gem that glows, 
To Time’s rude power alike must yield, 
Sure as it beams or blows. 
The purest thought that lights the eye, 
The feeling that’s most dear, 
The glow on Beauty’s cheek must die, 
And fond hopes disappear. 
