212 
THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
By all the glances backward cast 
Along life’s weary shore— 
By all the memories of the past 
That may return no more ; 
Oh, strew ye purple pansies when the old man’s life 
o’er! 
THE WATER LILY. 
J. H. REYNOLDS. 
In a brook which loved to fret 
O’er yellow sand and pebble blue, 
The lily of the silvery hue 
All freshly dwelt, with white leaves wet. 
Away the sparkling water played, 
Through bending grass, and blessed flower; 
Light and delight seemed all its dower : 
Away in merriment it strayed— 
Singing, and bearing, hour after hour, 
Pale lovely splendour to the shade. 
THE STAR AND THE WATER-LILY. 
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 
The Sun stepped down from his golden throne, 
And lay in the silent sea, 
And the Lily had folded her satin leaves.. 
For a sleepy thing was she. 
What is the Lily dreaming of ? 
Why crisp the waters blue ? 
See, see, she is lifting her varnished lid ! 
Her white leaves are glistening through ! 
