rOETUY OF FLOWERS. 
8D 
LINES ON FLOWERS. 
Flowers are the brightest things which earth 
On her broad bosom loves to cherish ; 
Gay they appear as children’s mirth, 
Like fading dreams of hope they perish. 
In every clime, in every age. 
Mankind have felt their pleasing sway ; 
And lays to them have fleck’d the page 
Of moralist—and minstrel gay. 
By them the lover tells his tale. 
They can his hopes, his fears express ; 
The maid, when words or looks would fail, 
Can'thus a kind return confess. 
They wreath the harp at banquets tried. 
With them we crown the crested brave : 
They deck the maid—adorn the bride— 
Or form the chaplets for her grave. 
TO THE VIOLET. 
Sweet lowly plant! once more I bend 
To hail thy presence here, 
