200 POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
On the wall the sunbeam stealeth ; gaily hum the 
laden bees; 
And the light wind stirs the blossoms in the fra¬ 
grant lilac-trees; 
Loudly sings the lark, buf breaks not that im¬ 
moveable repose, 
For the bride has met the bridegroom—Death has 
brought the golden rose. 
MAY FLOWERS. 
Sweet flowers every one ! 
Ye put it in my mind to offer up 
A thankful prayer to Him who fills my cup. 
And sendeth beauty with the summer’s sun, 
Thought wanders joyful while your sunny bloom 
And odours sweet enrich the passing hours; 
Thought which forbids an anchoritish gloom, 
And glows with beauty not unlike the flowers. 
A welcome waits you through this land of ours 1 
In southern vales or Scotia’s wilder glen: 
Where’er your glories fall in golden showers, 
A welcome waits ye in the hearts of men ! 
For ‘ souls are ripened,’ even while ye fly 
The howling storm beneath ‘ our northern sky.’ 
