118 
POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
“ Shall I have nought that is fair ?” saith he ; 
“ Have nought but the bearded grain ? 
Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, 
I will give them all hack again.” 
He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, 
He kissed their drooping leaves; 
It was for the Lord of Paradise 
He bound them in his sheaves. 
“ My Lord has need of these flowerets gay,” 
The Reaper said, and smiled; 
“ Dear tokens of the earth are they, 
Where he was once a child. 
“ They shall all bloom in fields of light, 
Transplanted by my care, 
And saints, upon their garments white, 
These sacred blossoms wear.” 
And the mother gave, in tears and pain, 
The flowers she most did love ; 
She knew she should find them all again 
In the fields of light above. 
0, not in cruelty, not in wrath 
The Reaper came that day; 
’Twas an angel visited the green earth, 
An d took the flowers away. 
Longfellow. 
