POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
117 
When all around is chill and drear, 
And many a cloud obscures the sky, 
Thy form peeps forth, to glad and cheer 
The lingering heart and anxious eye—- 
Gives token of the bud and bloom, 
That with more sunny hours will come. 
So Hope should cheer us when we feel 
The evils of life’s wintry day; 
And throw her buds around and steal, 
In blossoms, o’er our dreary way; 
And yield a charm more bright than gold, 
When all is sad and all is cold. 
So Faith within the Christian’s breast 
Doth meekly live and blossom still, 
Though all around may be deprest, 
And many a frost may strive to kill: 
Nor fails in darksome days to bring 
Tokens of an eternal spring. 
THE REAPER AND TIIE FLOWERS. 
There is a reaper, whose name is Death, 
And, with his sickle keen, 
He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, 
And the flowers that grow between. 
O 
