OK, LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
Quickly o’er mountain, hill, and mead, 
And through the green forest glade. 
0 were I hut a swift fleet boat, 
I would bear thee through the stream 
In me thou shouldst so calmly float. 
And view each charming scene. 
0 were I but a warrior bold, 
And thou didst smile on me, 
I would don my armour of bright gold, 
And fight and die for thee ! 
GUARDIAN ANGEI S. 
Gently, gently fall sweet sleep 
O'er thine eyelids, soft and deep; 
Gently as the breath of flowers 
In the bright noon’s honeyed hours, 
Gently as the dews of heaven 
On the wild rose at the even. 
Thou art pure, immortal one; 
Oh! be pure till life is done, 
We would take thee in thy bloom 
From the dim walls of the tomb : 
"VVe would bear thee, blest and fair, 
Where thy home and kindred are. 
Pray then-—strive to enter in 
Through the cold world’s woe and sin; 
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