OK, LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. 229 
And thou, meek Hyacinth ! afar is roving, 
The bee that oft thy trembling bells hath kiss’d, 
Cradled ye were, fair flowers! ’midst all things 
loving, 
A joy to all—yet, yet ye are not miss’d 1 
Ye that were horn to lend the sunbeam gladness, 
And the winds fragrance, wandering where they 
list,— 
Oh! it were breathing words too deep in sadness 
To say—earth’s human flowers not more are 
miss’d! 
THE FLOWER GIRL. 
Come buy, come buy my mystic flowers, 
All ranged with due consideration, 
And culled in Fancy’s fairy bowers, 
To suit each age and every station. 
For those who late in life would tarry, 
I’ve Snowdrops , Winter’s children cold; 
And those who seek for wealth to marry 
May buy the flaunting Marygold. 
I’ve Ragwort, Ragged-robins too, 
Cheap flowers for those of low condition; 
For bachelors I’ve Buttons blue ; 
And Crown-imperials for ambition. 
