116 POETEY OF FLOWEES. 
And the mother gave in tears and pain, 
The flowers she most did love ; 
She knew she should find them all again 
In the fields of light above. 
0, not in cruelty, not in wrath. 
The Reaper came that day; 
’Twas an angel visited the green earth. 
And took the flowers away. 
THE COWSLIP. 
Bowing adorers of the gale. 
Ye cowslips delicately pale. 
Upraise your loaded stems : 
Unfold your cups of splendour, speak ! 
Who deck’d you with that ruddy streak, 
And gilt your golden gems ? 
Ye lovely flowers of lowly birth. 
Embroiderers of the carpet earth, 
That stud the velvet sod ; 
Open to Spring’s refreshing air, 
In sweetest smiling bloom declare 
Your Maker and your God. 
