WHITE POPPY. —Sleep of the Heart. 
Sleep, heart of mine, 
Why should love awake thee ? 
Like yon closed rosebud. 
To thy rest betake thee. 
Waken, heart of mine, 
From such dangerous Sleeping; 
Love’s haunted visions 
Surely end in weeping. 
Miss Landon. 
PERUVIAN HELIOTROPE.— Devotion. 
Thou wast that all to me, love, 
For which my soul did pine; 
A green isle in the sea, love, 
A fountain and a shrine, 
All wreathed round about with flowers— 
And the flowers they all were mine. 
E. A. Poe. 
My love has never sought reward, ’twas joy enough for me 
To pass my life in loneliness, and cherish thoughts of thee. 
Mbs. Embury. 
If to feel the deep devotion 
Of a pilgrim at a shrine, 
If to weep with fond emotion 
Be to love thee, I am thine. 
If to treasure every token, 
Livery look, and every sign, 
Every light word thou hast spoken 
Be to love thee, I am thine. 
Mrs. V. E. Howard, 
SENSITIVE PLANT.— Delicate Feelings. 
Hearts 
Whose beatings are too gentle for the world. 
I ; i 
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