148 TILE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
Broad water-lilies lay tremulously, 
And starry river-buds glimmered by, 
And around them the soft stream did glide and dance 
With a motion of sweet sound and radiance. 
And the sinuous paths of lawn and moss, 
Which led through the garden along and across— 
Some open at once to the sun and the breeze, 
Some lost among bowers of blossoming trees— 
Were all paved with daisies and delicate bells 
As fair as the fabulous asphodels, 
And flowerets which drooping as day drooped too, 
Fell into pavilions, white, purple, and blue, 
To roof the glowworm from the evening dew. 
And from this undefiled paradise 
The flowers (as an infant’s awakening eyes 
Smile on its mother, whose singing sweet 
Can first lull, and at last must awaken it), 
When heaven’s blithe winds had unfolded them, 
As mine-lamps enkindle a hidden gem, 
Shone smiling to heaven, and every one 
Shared joy in the light of the gentle sun ; 
For each one was interpenetrated 
With the light and the odour its neighbour shed, 
Like young lovers whom youth and love make dear, 
Wrapped and filled by their mutual atmosphere. 
But the Sensitive Plant, which could give small fruit 
Of the love which it felt from the leaf to the root, 
Received more than all, it loved more than ever, 
Where none wanted but it, could belong to the giver, 
