26 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
Tenaed the garden from morn tc even ; 
And the meteors of that sublunar heaven, 
Like the lamps of the air when night walks orth, 
Laugh’d round her footsteps up from the earth! 
She had no companion of mortal race, 
But her tremulous breath and her flushing face 
Told, whilst the morn kiss’d the sleep from hef 
eyes, 
That her dreams were less slumber than paradise, 
As if some bright spirit for her sweet sake 
Had deserted heaven while the stars were awake, 
As if yet around her he lingering were,. 
Though the veil of daylight conceal’d him from 
her. 
Her step seem’d to pity the grass it prest; 
You might hear, by the heaving of her breast, 
That the coming and the going of the wind 
Brought pleasure there, and left passion behindi 
And wherever her airy footstep Wod, . 
Her trailing hair from the grassy sod 
Erased its light vestige, with shadowy sweep, 
Like a sunny storm o’er the dark green deep. 
I doubt not the flowers of that garden sweet 
Rejoiced in the sound of her gentle feet; 
