36 
THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
And as the dewdrops gently fall, 
They tip with pearls her coronal. 
In princely halls, and courts of kings, 
Its lustrous ray the diamond flings, 
Yet few of those who see its beam 
Amid the torches’ dazzling gleam, 
As bright as though a meteor shone, 
Can call the costly prize their own. 
But gems of every form and hue 
Are glittering here in morning dew; 
Jewels that all alike may share 
As freely as the common air; 
No niggard hand, no jealous eye, 
Protects them from the passer-by. 
Man to his brother shuts his heart, 
And science acts a miser’s part ; 
But Nature with a liberal hand 
Flings wide her stores o’er sea and land. 
If gold she give, not single grains 
Are scattered far across the plains; 
But lo, the desert streams are rolled 
O’er precious beds of virgin gold. 
If flowers she offer, wreaths are given 
As countless as the stars of heaven ! 
Or music,—’tis no feeble note 
She bids along the valleys float, 
Ten thousand nameless melodies 
In one full chorus swell the breeze. 
