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Floral Poetry. 
FLOWERS. 
Y E valleys low, where the mild whispers rise 
Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, 
On whose fresh lap the Swart-star sparely looks ; 
Throw hither all your quaint enamelled eyes, 
That on the green turf suck the honeyed showers, 
And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. 
Bring the rathe* Primrose that forsaken dies, 
The tufted Crow-toe, and pale Jessamine, 
The white Pink, and the Pansy freaked with jet, 
The glowing Violet, 
The Musk Rose, and the well-attired Woodbine, 
AVith Cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, 
And every flower that sad embroidery wears ; 
Bid Amaranthus all his beauty shed, 
And Daffodillies fill their cups with tears, 
To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies. 
Milt on. 
USE OF FLOWERS. 
/TOD might have bade the earth bring forth 
Enough for great and small, 
The Oak tree and the Cedar tree, 
AVithout a flower at all. 
He might have made enough, enough 
For every want of ours : 
For luxury, medicine, and toil, 
And yet have made no flowers. 
* Early. 
