the language of flowers. 
THE LILY. 
PERCIVAL. 
I had found out a sweet green spot 
Where a lily, was blooming fair; 
The din of the city disturbed it not ; 
But the spirit that shades the quiet cot 
With its wings of love was there. 
I found that lily’s bloom 
When the day was dark and chill: 
It smiled like a star in a misty gloom, 
And it sent abroad a sweet perfume, 
Which is floating around me still. 
I sat by the lily’s bell, 
And watched it many a day:— 
The leaves, that rose in a flowing swell, 
Grew faint and dim, then drooped and'fell, 
And the flower had flown away. 
I looked where the leaves were laid, 
In withering paleness, by; 
And as gloomy thoughts stole on me, said, 
There’s many a sweet and blooming maid 
Who will soon as dimly die. 
THE LILY. 
COLERIDGE. 
The stream with languid murmur creeps 
In Lumin’s flowery vale : 
Beneath the dew the lily weeps, 
Slow waving to the gale. 
