34 
THE POETRY OP FLOWERS. 
CORIANDER. 
This has a fragrant, spicy seed, formerly much, esteemed 
by housewives and confectioners. 
CONCEALED MERIT. 
None know thy goodness. Like the fragrant mint, 
Hid in the umbrage of some lowly glen. 
Thy virtues lie concealed; and only love 
In its deep research can unlock the wealth 
Of thy benignant soul, and bring to light 
Its hidden jewels. The lone suffering heart. 
The humble poor, the sorrowing and forlorn. 
These know thy worth. Oh, is not fame liko this 
Beyond the praises of a heartless world ? 
--♦- 
CORN. 
RICIIES. 
If thouMt be mine, no want or care 
Shall e’er disturb thy life ; 
Thy days shall all be bright and fair, 
With worldly blessings rife. 
If thou’lt be mine, bright gems chall deck 
Thy snowy arms and breast. 
And pearls shall cluster round thy neck, 
And on thy forehead rest. 
If thou’lt be mine, what have T, love, 
That is not also thine ? 
Oh then my heart no longer prove, 
But say thou wilt he mine. 
- + - 
COWSLIP. 
A very bright, beautiful yellow flowor. 
WINNING GRACE. 
Shb grew in love. Around her infant home 
Life hung its summer hues, and very fair 
Was this wild earth to her. She learned to roam 
In artless radiance where the woodland air 
Showered trembling sweetness on the glancing 
streams, 
And stole its hue from sunset’s golden beams. 
She twined the orchis in her hazel hnir. 
And stole the violets from tlio brook-side dell: 
The wilding race was her peculiar care. 
Her dearest music was the foxglove’s bell. 
When the wild bee with his transparent wings 
Stirs the sweet air, and makes believe he sings. 
-♦- 
CRANBERRY. 
CURE FOR HEART-ACHE. 
Art thou forsaken ? Cold and dark, indeed. 
The fate unsoothed by sympathetic tears ! 
And well the stricken heart unstarched may bleed. 
With no soft, pitying voice tb lull its fears. 
« Look up, thou poor forsaken l ” Jesus sped. 
All trustful, through a lot ns dark as thine; 
And know’st thou not that wheresoe’er he led. 
The path tends onward to a rest divine ? 
Art thou reviled ? Do foes insnare thy feet ? 
Do proud ones mock thee, and thy friends betray ? 
Thou canst not drain the bitter from the sweet. 
Nor pluck the rose ami throw the thorn away. 
But, like thy Saviour, turn the other cheek 
When one is struck, and snjr, “ Thou art forgiven ? 
Like him be faithful, and like him he meek, 
And speed, as he sped, hopefully to heaven 1 
-♦- 
CYPRESS. 
MOURNING. 
They came and went like shadows. 
The blessed dreams of youth. 
And they left behind no impress 
Or record of their truth. 
Then the future w as all sunshine. 
In gorgeous robes arrayed ; 
But ever as I’ve reached it. 
Its sunshine turned to shade. 
