Sb THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
Peeps not a snowdrop in the bower, 
Where never froze thr* spring ? 
A daisy? Ah! bring childhood’s flower! | 
The half blown daisy bring! 
Yes, lay the daisy’s little head 
Beside the little cheek; 
O haste ! the last of five is dead! 
The childless cannot speak ! 
THE AMARANTH. 
Crowns inwove with Amaranth and gold, 
Immortal Amaranth, a flower, which once 
In Paradise, fast by the Tree of Life, 
Began to bloom ; but soon, for man’s offence, 
To Heaven removed, where first it grew, there 
grows 
And flowers aloft, shading the Fount of Life, 
And where the River of Bliss, through midst ot 
Heaven, 
Rolls o’er Elysian flowers her amber stream; 
With these, that never fade, the spirits elect, 
Bind tlvir resplendent locks. Milton 
■'r-- 
