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THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
THE DOG ROSE.— Simplicity. 
We cordially join witli Mrs. Howitt in tHis greet* 
ing 
Welcome, oli! welcome once again, 
Thou dearest of all the laughing flowers, 
That open their odorous bosoms when 
The summer birds are in their bowers. 
There is none that I love, sweet gem, like thee, 
So mildly through the green leaves stealing; 
For I seem as thy delicate flush I see, 
In the dewy haunts of my youth to be ; 
And a gladsome youthful feeling 
Springs to my heart, that not all the glare 
Of the blossoming East could awaken there. 
—More than all, the sweet wild-rose, 
Starring each bush in lanes and glades, 
Smiles in each lovelier tint that glows 
On the cheeks of England’s peerless maids. 
THE EGLANTINE .—Poetry. 
This is regarded as an especial favourite with the 
poets. Cunningham thus rapturously speaks of it:— 
Yes, every flower that blows, I passed unheeded by, 
Till this enchanting Rose had fixed my wandering eye; 
It scented every breeze that wantoned o’er the stream, 
Ortrembled through the trees to meet themorningbeam. 
While Walter Savage Landor asks, as if complain- 
ingly 
