





A 
a 
ryy 
A 
THE BOUQUET. 
MIMOSA. 
Mimosa SENSITIVA. 

Sensitiveness. 


















Lixe the mimosa, shrinking from 
The blight of some familiar finger — 
Like flowers which but in secret bloom, 
Where aye the sheltered shadows linger, 
And which, beneath the hot noon-ray, 
Would fold their leaves and fade away — 
The flowers of love, in secret cherished, 
Tn loneliness and silence nourished, 
Shrink backward from the searching eye, 
Until the stem whereon they flourished, 
Their shrine, the human heart, has perished, 
Although themselves may never die. 
$ sunniest hours are not without 
’ 

Amid its brightest joys, will steal 
Spectres of evil yet to feel — 
Its warmest love 1s blent with fears ; 
Its confidence, a trembling one ; 
Its smile, the harbinger of tears; 
Its hope, the change of April’s sun! 
weary lot—in mercy given 
o fit the chastened soul for heaven. 
J. G. WHITTIER. 

