104 
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
’T was then the flowers were haunted 
With fairy forms and lovely things, 
Whose beauty elder bards have chaunted, 
And how they lived in crystal springs; 
And swang upon the honied bells, 
In meadows danced round dark green mazes, 
Strewed flowers around the holy wells, 
But never trampled on the Daisies. 
Tney spared the star that lit their feet, 
The Daisy was so very sweet. 
