POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
83 
Thou pearl of the deep sea 
That flows in my heart free, 
Thou rock-planted lily, come hither or send; 
’Mid flowers of the fairest, 
And gems of the rarest, 
I miss thee, I seek thee, my own parted friend ! 
M. J. Jewsbury. 
TO THE VIOLET. 
i. 
Sweet lowly plant! once more I bend 
To hail thy presence here, 
Like a beloved returning friend 
From absence doubly dear. 
"Wert thou for ever in our sight, 
Might we not love thee less ? 
But now thou bringest new delight,— 
Thou still hast power to bless. 
Still doth thine April presence bring 
Of April joys a dream; 
When life was in its sunny Spring— 
A fair unrippled stream. 
And still thine exquisite perfume 
Is precious as of old; 
And still thy modest tender bloom 
It joys me to behold. 
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