POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
41 
The careless eye can find no grace, 
No beauty in the scaly folds, 
Nor see within the dark embrace 
What latent loveliness it holds. 
Yet in that bulb, those sapless scales. 
The lily wraps her silver vest, 
Till vernal suns and vernal gales 
Shall kiss once more her fragrant breast. 
Yes, hide beneath the mouldering heap 
The undelighting slighted thing; 
There in the cold earth buried deep, 
In silence let it wait the spring. 
Oh ! many a stormy night shall close 
In gloom upon the barren earth, 
While still, in undisturbed repose, 
Uninjured lies the future birth! 
And Ignorance, with sceptic eye, 
Hope’s patient smile shall wondering view; 
Or mock her fond credulity, 
As her soft tears the spot bedew. 
Sweet smile of hope, delicious teai ! 
The sun, the shower melded shall come ; 
The promised verdant shoot appear, 
And Nature bid her blossoms bloom. 
And thou, 0 virgin Queen of Spring! 
Shalt, from thy dark and lowly bod 
Bursting thy green sheath s silken stiing, 
Unveil thy charms, and perfume shed; 
