67 
POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
Springing in valleys green and low, 
And on the mountains high, 
And in the silent wilderness, 
Where no man passeth by ? 
Our outward life requires them not. 
Then wherefore had they birth ?— 
To minister delight to man, 
And beautify the earth ; \ 
To whisper hope—to comfort man 
Whene’er his faith is dim; 
For whoso careth for the flowers 
Will care much more for him. 
WILD FLOWERS. 
Beautiful children of the woods and fields ! 
That bloom by mountain streamlets ’mid the 
heather, 
Or into clusters, ’neath the hazels, gather,— 
Or where by hoary rocks you make your bields, 
And sweetly flourish on through summer wea¬ 
ther, — 
I love ye all 1 
