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THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
Growing one’s own choice words and fancies 
In orange tubs and beds of pansies ; 
One’s sigbs and passionate declarations 
In odorous rhet’ric of carnations; 
Seeing how far one’s stocks will reach; 
Taking due care one’s flowers of speech 
To guard from blight as well as bathos, 
And watering, every day, one’s pathos. 
A letter comes just gather’d, we 
Doat on its tender brilliancy ; 
Inhale its delicate expression 
Of balm and pea; and its confession, 
Made with as sweet a maiden blush 
As ever morn bedew’d on bush; 
And then when we have kiss’d its wit 
And heart, in water putting it; 
To keep its remarks fresh, go round 
Our little eloquent plot of ground ! 
And with delighted hands compose 
Our answer, all of lily and rose, 
Of tuberose, and of violet, 
And little darling mignonette ; 
And gratitude, and polyanthus, 
And flowers that say, “ Felt never man thus ! 
THE LAUREL.— Glory. 
Percival reminds us that — 
Fame’s bright star and glory’s swell 
By the glossy leaf of the Bay are given. 
While old Herrick says earnestly— 
