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THE rOETRY OF FLOWERS. 
Thou breathest in a dozen ear3 
The same fond words once breathed to me; 
While I, alas 1 in secret tears. 
Can only think and dream of thee. 
JASMINE, WHITE. 
An Asiatic genus. Flowers white and very fragrant. 
Plant climbing. 
—4 - 
IRIS. 
Flowers of various colours—commonly blue. 
I HAVE A MESSAGE FOR TIIEE. 
Wi'RB not thy spirit purified to look 
Through all things beautiful to God and heaven. 
These gentle readings from love’s holy book 
Had not been given. 
Were thine eye sealed to those sweet lessons, taught 
In the dim oracles of leaf and tree, 
I had not made them messengers of thought. 
Dear friend, to thee. 
Hut take them now, for they will talk to thee 
In the sweet accents of poetic lore ; 
Heed their soft pleadings—kindly «think of me*— 
I ask no more. 
-♦- 
IVY. 
Flowers green. Berries round and black. 
AMIABILITY. 
Think is that excelling virtue 
The pure-hearted only know ; 
Thine that unassuming goodness 
Which in silent deeds doth flow. 
Thou dost make the poor and needy 
In thy presence to rejoice; 
All the bowed and broken-hearted 
Love thy peace-inspiring voice. 
Mrs. Scott. 
- 4 - 
JASMINE, YELLOW. 
GRACE AND ELEGANCE. 
Likk the foam on the wave floating down to the sea. 
Like the zephyr that flits o’er the grain-covered lea, 
Like the soft fleecy cloud o’er the face of the moon. 
Like the sail of a bird on the still air of noon,— 
So graceful, and airy, and gentle art thou. 
With thy curls floating free o'er thy radiant brow 1 
So fairy-like moveth thy foot o’er the flowers. 
They look up and exclaim—“ "Iwas the step cf the 
Hours l ” 
MATRIMONY. 
Lono have I sought, and vainly have I yearned 
To meet some spirit that could answer mine ; 
Then chide me not that 1 so soon have learned 
To talk with thine. 
Oh, thou wilt cherish what some hearts would spurn. 
So gentle and so full of soul thou art; 
And shrine my feelings in that holy urn— 
Thine own true heart. 
JONQUIL. 
Flowers golden, emitting n pleasant but powerful 
perfume. 
AFFECTION RETURNED. 
That thou art loved, this flower my witness be 1 
In the bright morning, noon, or starry night, 
Ono thought my bosom fills— t is of thee I 
And thou dost make all hours and seasons bright. 
