20 
FLOWERS BY THE POETS. 
In your eyes a story I read— 
A story of constancy. 
After the storms and winter’s wind, 
Softly you came with influence kind; 
Then as I bend with listening ear, 
Your cheerful voice I plainly hear, 
Preaching a sermon to me. 
So whisper to me, my Pansies sweet— 
Tell me in rustlings low, 
Of that beautiful land where fadeless flowers 
Brightly bloom in immortal bowers, 
And no blighting wind doth blow. 
Tell of the care that is over all — 
That gives you your garments gay ; 
Whose loving hand clothes the floweret small, 
That grows in the field, or by the garden wall, 
Whose life is only a day. 
Yes, tell of the love, my Pansies sweet— 
Of the love that knows no end ; 
That through earth’s winter safely keeps 
Watch over his children, and never sleeps ; 
The love that paints the violet blue. 
And quenches your thirst with drops of dew, 
The weary heart’s faithful friend. 
Marie. 
