THE POETRY OF FLO ATERS. 
And the jessamine faint, and the sweet tuberose, 
The sweetest flower for scent that blows! 
And all rare blossoms, from every clime, 
Grew in that garden in perfect prime. 
And on the stream whose inconstant bosom 
Was prankt, under boughs of embowering blos¬ 
som, 
With golden and green light, and starting through 
Their heaven of many a tangled hue, 
Broad water-lilies lay tremulously, 
And starry river-buds glimmer’d by, 
And around them the soft stream did glide and 
dance 
With a motion of sweet sound and radiance. 
And the sinuous paths of lawn and moss, 
Which led through the garden along and across- 
Some open at once to the sun and the breeze, 
Some lost among bowers of blossoming trees— 
Were all paved with daisies and delicate bells 
As fair as the fabulous asphodels. 
And flowerets which drooping as day droop’d too, 
Fell into pavilions white, purple, and blue, 
To roof the glow-worm from the evening dew. 
And from this undefiled paradise 
The flowers (as an infant’s awakening eyes 
