103 FABLES OF FLORA. 
‘ Little streams have flowers as many, 
Beautiful and fair as any; 
There the flowering rush you meet, 
And the plumy meadow-sweet; 
And, in places deep and stilly, 
Marble-like, the Water-Lily.' 
Mart Howitt. 
‘ There’s a spring in the woods of my sunny home, 
Afar from the dark sea’s tossing foam; 
And the large Water-Lilies that o’er it shed 
Their pearly hues to the soft light spread, 
They haunt me! I dream of that bright spring’s flow, 
I thirst for its rill like a wounded doe.’ 
Mrs. Hemans. 
The Indian Cupid has his abode in the corolla 
of a water-lily. 
‘Love down the blue Ganges laughing glides 
Upon a Lotus wreath.’ 
We are doubly indebted to Mr. Whittier for 
sending us, in company with his own, the fol¬ 
lowing graceful poem by his sister. 
