rou 
10S 
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POETRY OF FLOWERS. 195 
They are scarcely yet ripe, but their tender green 
Looks lovely the dark clustering foliage between: 
And we'll stop at the nest we found in the 
wood, 
And see if the blackbird hath flown with her 
brood: 
And we'll list to the mocking-bird, wondering 
thereat, 
Till he pauses, as if toask, ““ Whocan do that?” 
We will listen and gaze, for the lowliest thing 
Some lesson of worth to the mind can bring. 
If we read Nature’s book with a serious eye, 
Not a leaf but some precious thought on it doth 
lie: 
And ’tis good to go forth among scenes like these, 
Amid music and sunshine, and flowers and trees 
If ’twere only to waken the deep love that 
springs 
At the sight of all lovely and innocent things. 
TO A DAISY. 
Brieut flower, whose home is everywhere! 
A pilgrim bold, in Nature’s care, 
And oft, the long year through, the heir 
Of joy or sorrow ; 







