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28 
THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
ANEMONE, EIELE. 
SICKNESS. 
Five’s frosts thou art too frail to bear, 
And in its storms wouldst perish ; 
A floweret Love alone should wear, 
And on his bosom cherish. 
Love, like a rock, should firmly stand, 
And hang its shelter o’er thee ; 
While only zephyrs soft and bland 
Dispense their sweets around thee. 
-♦- 
APPLE, THORN. 
DECEITFUL CIIARMS. 
I i.ove thee not. 1 will not lay 
One offering on thy shrine, 
Though others their devotions pay 
As though thou wert divine. 
I love thee not. I know deceit 
And guile are in thy heart,— 
That all thy words, so soft and sweet. 
Are but the tricks of art. 
I love thee not. The simplest mind 
Is dearer far to me, 
(Though far loss brilliant and refined,) 
Than ever thine can be! 
-♦- 
ASH TREE. 
GRANDEUR. 
Cost i.v the jewels that gleam on thy breast— 
Beautiful maiden 1 say, ait thou blest ? 
Rich are tho robes that envelop thy form— 
Beats there beneath them a heart that is warm ? 
Beautiful maiden 1 slaves wait thy command— 
Loudest thou them with a lenient hand ? 
Grandeur is round thee, wherever thou art— 
Oh say, is there brightness like this in thy heart ? 
If so, may no sorrows of mine ever dim 
The joys that are mantling thy cup to its brim ; 
In the shade of my lot, I’ll adore thee afar— 
The worm on the earth may look up to the star! 
- ♦ - 
BALM OF GILEAD. 
The Balm of Gilead is distinguished for its resinous and 
aromatic buds, which are useful for vulnerary appli¬ 
cation. 
RELIEF. 
My dream Is o’er, my heart’s at rest; 
No idle hopes its peace molest; 
Never again will love of mine 
Be cast, rejected, from thy shrine. 
It is not pride that bids.me wear 
A quiet and untroubled air; 
lily smiles are no poor tricks of art— 
They speak the sunshine of my heart. 
Farewell! Pursue in peace thy way; 
I care not where thy feet may stray ; 
No idle griefs my peace molest,— 
My love is o’er, my heart’s at rest. 
-*- 
BALSAM. 
Common Wild Balsam: Impatiena noli me tangere— 
Touch-me-not. 
IMPATIENCE. 
I cannot, will not longer brook 
Thy cold delay, thy prudent look! 
Dost love me ? Share at once my fate. 
Be it or bright or desolate. 
I will abide no half-way love, 
Nor wait for prudence ere I move; 
One more repulse, and I depart 1 
Come now, or never, to my heart 
