







7% POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
Closed was my heart, nor gave one bud of love 
To glorify its bounteous Lord above. 
But sorrow came, and summer friends departed ; 
Then at the throne of grace I learned to kneel, 
And now, aroused from sloth, and fervent-hearteé, 
The holy glow of gratitude I feel, 
And those sweet leaves in darkness have unfurl’d 
That shunned the gaudy splendour of the world. 
A NOSEGAIE ALWAIES SWEET, 
FOR LOVERS TO SEND FOR TOKENS OF LOVE, AT NEW 
YERES TIDE, OR FOR FAIRINGS, AS THEY IN THEiR 
MINDS SHALL BE DISPOSED TO WRITE.—1584. 
A wnosEGate lacking flowers fresh, 
To you now I do send, 
Desiring you to look thereon, 
When that you may intend : 
For flowers fresh begin to fade, 
And Boreas in the field, 
Even with his hard congealed frost, 
No better flowers doth yield. 
But if that winter could have sprung 
A sweeter flower than this, 
I would have sent it presently 
To you withouten misse, 
