FLORAL CONVERSATION. 
One’s sighs and passionate declarations 
In odorous rhetoric of Carnations ; 
Seeing how far one’s stocks will reach, 
Taking good care one’s flowers of speech 
To guard from blight as well as bathos. 
And watering, every day, one’s pathos. 
A letter comes, just gathered. We 
Doat on its tender brilliancy ; 
Inhale its delicate expressions 
Of balm and pea, and its confessions, 
Made with as sweet a Maiden's Blush 
As ever morn bedew’d on bush, 
(’Tis in reply to one of ours, 
Made of the most convincing flowers,) 
Then, after we have kissed its wit 
And heart, in water putting it, 
(To keep its remarks fresh,) go round 
Our little eloquent plot of ground, 
And with enchanted hands compose 
Our answer, all of Lily and Rose, 
Of Tuberose and of Violet, 
And Little Darling, (Mignonette) 
Of Look-at-me and Call-me-to-you, 
(Words, that while they greet, go through you). 
Of Thoughts, of Flames, Forget-me-not, 
Bridewort, in short the whole blest lot 
Of vouchers for a life-long kiss, 
And literally breathing bliss. 
