34 
Floral Poetry. 
THE WREATH. 
TO A FRIEND ON HER BIRTHDAY. 
Y ET others sing the rich, the great, 
Lr The victor’s palm, the monarch’s state, 
A purer joy be mine — 
To greet the excellent of earth, 
To call down blessings on thy worth, 
And, for the hour that gave thee birth, 
Life’s choicest flowers entwine. 
And lo ! where smiling from above 
(Meet helpmate in the work of love) 
O’er opening hill and lawn, 
With flowerets of a thousand dyes, 
With all that’s sweet of earth and skies, 
Soft breathes the vernal dawn. 
Come ! from her stores we’ll cull the best 
Thy bosom to adorn ; 
Each leaf in livelier verdure drest, 
Each blossom balmier than the rest, 
Each rose without a thorn ; 
Fleet tints, that with the rainbow died, 
Brief flowers, that withered in their pride, 
Shall, blushing into light, awake 
And kindlier bloom, for thy dear sake. 
And first—though oft, alas ! condemned 
Like merit, to the shade— 
The Primrose meek, with dews begemmed, 
Shall sparkle in the braid ; 
