POETRY OP FLOWERS. 
121 
Revive our dying fires, to burn 
High as her anthems soar, 
And of our scholars let us learn 
Our own forgotten lore. 
Keeisle. 
BUTTERCUPS AND DAISIES. 
Buttercups and Daisies— 
Oh, the pretty flowers ! 
Coming in the spring-time, 
To tell of sunny hours. 
"While the trees are leafless, 
While the fields are bare, 
Buttercups and Daisies 
Spring up here and there. 
Ere the snow-drop peepeth, 
Ere the crocus bold, 
Ere the early primrose 
Opes its paly gold, 
Somewhere on a sunny bank 
Buttercups are bright; 
Somewhere ’mong the frozen grass 
Peeps the Daisy white. 
