the POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
And virgin’s-bower, trailing airily; 
With others of the sisterhood. Hard by, 
Stood serene Cupids watching silently. 
One, kneeling to a lyre, touched the strings, 
-Muffling to death the pathos with his wings; 
And, ever and anon, uprose to look 
At the youth’s slumber ; while another took 
A willow bough, distilling odorous dew, 
And shook it on his hair; another dew 
In through the woven roof, and fluttering wise, 
Rain’d violets upon his sleeping eyes. 
