
4 POETRY OF FLOWERS. | 
Beautiful flowers !| to me ye fresher scem 
From the Almighty hand that fashioned all, 
Than those that flourish by a garden-wall ; 
And I can image you, as in a dream, 
Fair modest maidens, nursed in hamlets smal!,—= 
T love ye all! 
Beautiful gems! that on the brow of earth 
Are fixed, as in a queenly diadem ; 
Though lowly ye, and most without a name, 
Young hearts rejoice to see your buds come forth, 
As light erewhile into the world came,— 
I love ye all! 
Beautiful things ye are, where’er ye grow ! 
Thewild red rose—thespeedwell’s peeping eyes— 
Our yn bluebell—the daisy, that doth rise 
Wherever sunbeams fall or winds do blow; 
And thousands more of blessed forms and dyes,— 
I love ye all ! 
Beautiful nurslings of the early dew ! 
Fanned, in your loveliness, by every breeze, 
And shaded o’er by green and arching trees; 
I often wish,that I were one of you, 
Dwelling afar upon the grassy leas,— 
I love ye all! 
Beautiful watchers ! day and night ye-wake ! 
The Evening Star grows dim and fades away, 
The Morning comes and goes, and then the day 
