THE POETRY OF FLOWERS 
She clasps no golden zone of pride, 
Her fair and simple robe around— 
By flowing riband, lightly tied, 
Its graceful folds are bound: 
And thus attired—a sportive thing, 
Pure, loving, guileless, bright, and wild, 
Proud Fashion! match me in your ring, 
New England’s mountain-child! 
f. s. o. 
SINCERITY. 
FERN* 
“ Fern often affords an agreeable seat to lovers; its ashes are 
used in the manufacture of glasses for the convivial party; and 
all the world knows that love and wine make men sincere.” 
(I dearly love a changing cheek, 
That glows or pales, as Feeling chooses, 
And lets the free heart frankly speak —- 
Upon it what the tongue refuses;^ 
Where eloquent blushes burn and fade, 
Rich with the wealth of warm emotion, 
Or starry dimples mock the shade, 
Like jewels in a restless ocean. 
F. s. o. 
