OR, LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 205 
to “the ornament of a meek and quiet 
spirit, which is in the sight of God of great 
great price.” 
THERE WAS A ROSE. 
Thf.be was a rose, that blushing grew 
Within my life’s young bower; 
The angels sprinkled holy dew 
Upon the blessed flower: 
I glory to resign it, love, 
Though it was dear to me ; 
Amid thy laurels twine it, love, 
It only blooms for thee. 
There was a rich and radiant gem 
I long kept hid from sight, 
Lost from some seraph’s diadem— 
It shone from Heaven’s own light! 
The world could never tear it, love, 
That gem of gems from me ; 
Yet on thy fond breast wear it, love, 
It only shines for thee. 
There was a bird came to my breast, 
When I was very young; 
I only knew that sweet bird’s nest, 
To me she only sung; 
