26 
THE FLOWER GIRL. 
One half so lovely ; yet it grows along 
The poor gill’s pathway, by the poor 
man’s door. 
Such are the simple folks it dwells among; 
And humble as the bud, so humble be the 
song. 
I love it, for it takes its untouched stand 
Not in the vase that sculptors decorate; 
Its sweetness all is of my native land; 
And e’en its fragrant leaf has not its mate 
Among the perfumes which the rich and 
great 
Buy from the odours of the spicy East. 
You love your flowers and plants, and will 
you hate 
The little four-leaved rose that I love best, 
That freshest will awake, and sweetest go 
to rest ? 
—Bkainard. 
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. 
