




158 
POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
And these three little roses 
Were all bright and red. 
—Thus know I not if my love 
Be living or be dead ! 
LOOK FOR THE FLOWERS. 
Here, we earth wanderers 
Timid and brave, 
Hasten with onward step 
Nearer the grave ; 
And in our pilgrimage 
Should we not see, 
All that is beautiful, 
Lovesome and free ? 
Should we with mourning heart 
Sit all forlorn ? 
Should we with sullen hand 
Gather the thorn? 
Should we in rambling 
Over the meads, 
Look but for pestilent, 
Poisonous weeds? 
Should we not, joyously, 
Hand lock’d in hand, 
A hopeful—a jubilant, 
Brotherly band, 
Look for the Flowers? 
i 
