POETIIY OF FLOWERS, 
When spirits singing their hymns at even’, 
Wandered by wood and glade, 
And the Lord looked down from the highest heaven 
And bless’d what he had made — 
The bright, bright flowers 
That blessing remaineth upon them still, 
Though often the storm-cloud lowers, 
And frequent tempests may soil and chill 
The gayest of earth’s flowers. 
When Sin and Death, with their sister Grief, 
Made a home of the hearts of men, 
The blessing of God on each tender leaf 
Preserved in their beauty then 
The bright, bright flowers' 
The Lily is lovely as when it slept 
On the waters of Eden’s lake, 
The Woodbine breathes sweetly as when it crept 
In Eden from brake to brake. 
They were left as proof of the loveliness 
Of Adam and Eve’s first home: 
They are here as a type of the joys that bless 
'I he first in the world to come — 
The bright, bright flowers! 
