POETRV OF FLOWERS. 
75 
A thousand charms thou notest not 
Lie treasured there. 
Not Solomon, in all his state, 
Was clad like Nature’s simplest child ; 
Nor could the world combined create 
One floweret wild. 
Spare, then, this humble monument 
Of an Almighty’s power and skill; 
And let it at His shrine present 
Its homage still. 
He made it who made nought in vain ; 
He watches it who watches thee; 
And He can best its date ordain, 
Who bade it be. M. 
THE HOSES ARE GONE. 
The Roses are gone, their empire is o’er, 
And many who saw them may see them no more; 
Yet little it recks that we mourn their decay, 
For we are as fragile, as fleeting as they. 
What came with the Roses ? Sweet hopes springing 
forth 
'Mid the sunbeams of heaven, the blossoms of earth. 
And the song of the birds, and the breath of the flowers 
Awakening a dream of life’s sunniest hours. 
