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FLORAL POESY. 
SWEET PEAS. 
(Delicate Pleasures .) 
T is singular that few of our poets have celebrated 
-L these exquisite flowers. We know only these pretty 
lines of Keats, which exactly portray them : 
“ Here are sweet peas, on tiptoe for a flight; 
With wings of gentle flush o’er delicate white, 
And taper fingers catching at all things, 
To bind them all about with tiny rings.” 
IVY. 
{Friendship.) 
00 RE says : 
“ When the ivy of friendship is green in our souls.” 
Dickens assumes the same meaning. 
THE IVY GREEN. 
C. DICKENS. 
Oh, a dainty plant is the ivy green. 
That creepeth o’er ruins old ; 
Of right choice food are his meals, I ween, 
In his cell so lone and cold. 
