POETEY OP FLOWEES. 141 
With all thy thousand spangling gems—a bright 
and blessed boon— 
That come to cheer and welcome in the flowery 
month of June! 
The lark hath sought an upward home, far in the 
dewy air; 
While lowly by the rose’s cheek, the blackbird’s 
singing there; 
Or in its leafy bowers unseen, the thrush bursts 
forth in song— 
A low and pleasing melody the woods and dells 
among! 
Oh ! the flowery month of June; ah ! me, where 
are the fond ones fled ? 
No spring comes for the parted friends, nor sum¬ 
mer to the dead; 
I miss them at the calm of eve, or sunny hour of 
noon; 
Nor morning songs awake the dead in the flowery 
month of June ! 
THE WEE FLOWER. 
A BONNIE wee flower grew green in the wuds, 
Like a twinkling wee star amang the duds ; 
