I5C rHE POETRY OF FLO WERS. 
TO DAFFODILS. 
BY GEORGE HERRIC* 
Fair daffodils, we weep to see 
You haste away so soon; 
As yet, the eariy-rising sun 
Has not attain’d its noon. 
Stay, stay, 
Until the hastening day 
Has run 
But to the even song; 
And having pray’d together, we 
Will go with you along. 
We have short time to stay as yoa. 
We have as short a spring; 
As quick a growth to meet decay, 
As you or any thing. 
We die, 
As your hours do, and dry 
Away, 
Like to the summer’s rain. 
Or as the pearls of morning’s de** 
Ne’er to be fourd again. 
