THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
DECISION OF THE FLOWER. 
BY L. E, LANDON. 
And with scarlet poppies, around like a bower 
The maiden found her mystic flower. 
“ Now, gentle flower, I pray thee tell 
If my lover loves me, and loves me well: 
So may the fall of the morning dew 
Keep the sun from fading thy tender blue, 
Now I number the leaves for my lot— 
He love's not—he loves me—he loves me not 
He loves me—yes, thou last leaf, yes— 
I’ll pluck thee not for the last sweet guess! 
He loves me !”—“ Yes,” a dear voice sigh’d 
And her lover stands by Margaret’s side. 
THE SN 0 W-D R OP. 
BY MARY ROBINSON 
The snowdrop, Winter’s timid child, 
Awakes to life, bedew’d with tears, 
And fli-ngs around its fragrance mild; 
And, where no rival flowerets bloom, 
Amidst the bare and chilling gloom, 
A beauteous gem appears. 
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