





3166 POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
Methinks that there abides in thee 
Some concord with humanity, 
Given to no other flower I see 
The forest through! 
And wherefore? Man is soon deprests 
A thoughtless thing who, once unblest, 
Does little on his memory rest, 
Or on his reason : 
But thou wouldst teach him how to find 
A shelter under every wind ; 
A hope for times that are unkind, 
And every season. 
THE FLOWHR GIRL. 
Tavz you seen, when Aurora the east is adorn- 
ing, 
Have you seen a young maiden, (unnoticed 
by few,) 
With her basket of nosegays, as fresh as the 
morning, 
Hie o’er yon green meadows, yet sprinkled 
with dew ? 


