










THE BOUQUET. 

WOODBINE. 
LONICERA PERICLYMENON. 
Fraternal Love. 


I ruink of thee, my sister, 
In my sad and lonely hours, 
And the thought of thee comes o’er me 
Like the breath of morning flowers. 
Like music that enchants the ear, 
Like sights that bless the eye, 
Like the verdure of the meadow, 
The azure of the sky; 
Like rainbow in the evening, 
Like blossoms on the tree, 
Is the thought of thee, dear sister, 
Is the tender thought of thee! 
Joun KENYON. 
REL 









