195 
LOVE AND THE THISTLE 
As Cupid was flying about one day. 
With the flowers and zephyrs in wanton play. 
He ’spied in the air. 
Floating here and there, 
A winged seed of the Thistle-flower, 
And inen-ily chased it from bower to bower. 
And yonng Love cried to his playmates, “ See, 
I’ve found the true emblem-flower for me. 
For I am as light 
In my wavering flight 
As this feathery star of soft Thistle-down, 
Which by each of you zephyrs about is blown. 
See, how from a Rose’s soft warm blush 
It flies, to be caught in a bramble bush ; — 
And as oft do I, 
In my wanderings,- hie 
From beanty to those who have none I trow; 
Reckless as Thistle-down, on I go.” 
So the sly little God still flits away 
Mid earth’s loveliest flow’rets, day by day ; 
c c 2 
