36 
THE FLORAL 
LEMON 
Fresher than the morning rose 
When the dew wets its leaves ; unstained 
As is the lily, and pure as the mountain snow. 
Thomson. 
Thou art no Sabbath-drawler of old saws, 
Distilled from some worm-cankered homily. 
* * * Thou from a throne 
Mounted in heaven wilt shoot into the dark 
Arrows of lightnings. 
Tennyson. 
