THE POETRY OP FLOWERS. 17 
The flowers are culled; and each lithe stem 
With Woodbine band we braid— 
With Woodbine, type of Life’s best gem, 
Of Truth, that will not fade: 
1 he Wreath is wove; do Thou, blest Power, 
Tnat brood’st o’er leaflet, fruit, and flower, 
Embalm it with thy love ; 
O make it such as angels wear, 
Pure, bright, as deck’d earth’s first-born pair, 
Whilst, free in Eden’s grove, 
Prom herb and plant they brushed the dew, 
An-i neither sin nor sorrow knew. 
-♦- 
THE USE OF FLOWERS. 
BY MARY HOWITT. 
God might have bade the earth bring fortfe 
Enough for great and small, 
The oak-tree and the cedar-tree, 
Without a flower at all. 
He might have made enough, enough. 
For every want of ours ; 
For luxury, medicine, and toil, 
And yet have made no flowers 
The ore within the mountain-mine 
Require th none to grow, 
