POETRY OF FLOWERS. 95 
Happy still with heavenward gaze 
To display thy star-like rays. 
Storms may gather in the skies, 
Tempests roar and whirlwiuds rise, 
Showers descend in fearful train, 
Hail and sleet sweep o’er the plain, 
Sunbeams parch thy gentle head, 
Or the snow around thee spread, 
Still contented thou art found, 
Patient ’neath the conflict round ; 
By thy meekness freed from harm, 
Waiting for the coming calm. 
Type and emblem thou mayst be 
Of that rare simplicity, 
Which in every Christian’s mind 
Should its place of resting find, 
Mingling with its scorn of state, 
Meekness to the rich and great, 
Patience ’midst severest woes, 
Kindness e’en to sternest foes, 
Faith to rest on in the way, 
Hope to lend its cheering ray, 
And Charity, that gentle guest, 
Whose temple is the good man’s breast. 
Such the sermon—meanest things 
Preach to subjects or to kings ; 
Such the lesson thou may’st meet 
In the daisy at thy feet. 

