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Floral Poetry. 
WILD FLOWERS. 
Y DREAMED that, as I wandered by the way, 
A Bare Winter suddenly was changed to Spring, 
And gentle odours led my steps astray, 
Mixed with a sound of waters murmuring 
Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay 
Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling 
Its green arms round the bosom of the stream, 
But kissed it and then fled, as thou might’st in a dream. 
There grew pied Wind-flowers and Violets, 
Daisies, those pearled Arcturi of the earth, 
The constellated flower that never sets ; 
Faint Oxlips ; tender Bluebells, at whose birth 
The sod scarce heaved ; and that tall flower that wets 
Its mother’s face with heaven-collected tears, 
When the low wind, its playmate’s voice, it hears. 
And in the warm hedge grew lush Eglantine, 
Green Cowbind and the moonlight-coloured May, 
And Cherry blossoms, and white cups, whose wine 
Was the bright dew yet drained not by the day; 
And Wild Roses, and Ivy serpentine, 
With its dark buds and leaves, wandering astray, 
And flowers azure, black, and streaked with gold, 
Fairer than any wakened eyes behold. 
And nearer to the river’s trembling edge, 
There grew broad Flag-flowers, purple prankt with white, 
And starry River-buds among the sedge, 
And floating Water Lilies, broad and bright, 
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