Floral Poetry. 
And as, when all the summer trees are seen 
So bright and green, 
The Holly leaves their fadeless hues display, 
Less bright than they; 
But when the bare and wintry woods we see, 
What then so cheerful as the Holly tree ? 
So, serious should my youth appear among 
The thoughtless throng; 
So would I seem, among the young and gay, 
More grave than they; 
That in my age as cheerful I might be 
As the green winter of the Holly tree. 
R. Southey. 
THE HELIOTROPE. 
T HERE is a flower, whose modest eye 
Is turned with looks of light and love, 
Who breathes her softest, sweetest sigh, 
Whene’er the sun is bright above. 
Let clouds obscure, or darkness veil, 
Her fond idolatry is fled ; 
Her sighs no move their sweets exhale, 
The loving eye is cold and dead. 
Can’st thou not trace a moral here, 
False flatterer of the prosperous hour? 
Let but an adverse cloud appear, 
And thou art faithless as the flower. 
Anon. 
