1B8 WILD FLOWERS. 
^hose gaudy strangers, for the sweet and beau¬ 
tiful productions of our own woods and fields 
possess, in themselves, all that the heart or the 
imagination can require in a flower; wandering 
amid them we may say, with Milton 
“Now gentle gales 
Panning their odoriferous wings, dispense 
Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole 
These balmy spoils.” 
—•- 
HELIOTROPE. 
There is a flower whose modest eye 
Is turned with looks of light and love, 
Who breathes her softest, sweetest sigh 
Whene’er the sun is bright above. 
Let clouds obscure, or darkness veil, 
Her fond idolatry is fled ; 
Her sighs no more their sweets exhale, 
The loving eye is cold and dead. 
Canst thou not trace a moral here, 
False flatterer of the prosperous hour ? 
Let but an adverse cloud appear. 
And thou art faithless as the flower. 
