POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
45 
ORIGIN OF THE RED ROSE. 
A lovely rose of sweet perfume, 
Grew by a rivulet’s side, 
And bending o’er the silent stream, 
Its beauteous shadow spied. 
The rose—’till then—was virgin white, 
Nought with it could compare;— 
With modest grace the flower now blushed 
To see itself so fair. 
Anon. 
TO A LILY 
flowering by moonlight. 
Oh ! why, thou lily pale, 
Lovest thou to blossom in the wan moonlight, 
And shed thy rich perfume upon the night, 
When all thy sisterhood, 
In silken cowl and hood, 
Screen their soft faces from the sickly gale ? 
Fair-horned Cynthia woos thy modest flower, 
And with her beaming lips 
Thy kisses cold she sips, 
For thou art aye her only paramour; 
What time she nightly quits her starry tower, 
