66 
POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
I shall not soon forget 
What thou hast taught me in my solitude— 
My feelings have acquired a taste of good, 
Sweet flower! since first we met. 
Thou bring’st unto the soul 
A blessing and a peace, inspiring thought; 
And dost the goodness and the power denote 
Of Him who formed the whole. 
Anderson. 
LINES. 
“ Do not pluck the flowers, they are sacred to the dead.” 
Oh ! spare the flowers, the fair young flowers, 
The free glad gift the summer brings; 
Bright children of the sun and showers, 
Here do they rise, earth’s offerings. 
Rich be the dew upon you shed, 
Green he the bough that o’er you waves, 
Weariless watchers by the dead, 
Unblenching dwellers ’midst the graves! 
Oh! spare the flowers! their sweet perfume, 
Upon the wandering zephyr cast, 
And lingering o’er the lowly tomb, 
Is like the memory of the past. 
