THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
But you may stay here yet awhile, 
To blush and gently smile, 
And go at last. 
What, were ye bom to be 
An hour or half’s delight, 
And so to bid good night ? 
’Twas pity Nature brought ye forth, 
Merely to show your worth, 
And lose you quite. 
But you are lovely leaves, where we 
May read how soon things have 
Their end, though ne’er so brave: 
And after they have shown their pride 
Like you awhile, they glide 
Into the grave. 
TO APPLE BLOSSOMS. 
Lovely flowers of promise hail! 
Sweet pale blossoms of the Spring, 
Tenderest hues of rose and snow 
To the russet bough you bring. 
Beauty full of hope and joy 
In your frail, sweet blooms we see ; 
Welcome, then, to sun and shower 
Fairest buds of fairest tree. 
