



























THE BOUQUET. 
SPEEDWELL. 
VERONICA. 
Fidelity. 
Nor for thy azure tint, though bright, 
Or form so elegantly light, 
I single thee, thou lovely flower, 
From others of the sylvan bower; 
Thou hast a spell to them unknown, 
And this my heart hath captive won. 
Thy name —-what is it? The very prayer 
Affection breathes for friends most dear; 
‘Whate’er their hopes, pursuits, or aim, 
Part they or meet, thy magic name 
With silent eloguence may tell 
Her soul’s fond breathings, ‘ Speed ye well.’ 
Then to thy task, thou favored flower; 
And if thy simple charms have power 
To win the glance of her I love, 
O, faithful to thy errand prove ; 
Say, far or near, where’er she dwell, 
Thy prayer shall ever be, ‘ Speed well.’ 
Poetry for the Young. 


