



























POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
Upon her polish’d neck they blush, 
In her soft hand they shine, 
And better crown those peerless charms 
Than all Goleconda’s mine. 
d Above the floating bridal veil 
The white Camellia rears 
| Its innocent and tranquil eye, 
| To calm young beauty’s fears 3 
“2 | And when her hoary age recalls 
The memories of that hour, 
Blent with thé heaven-recorded vow 
Will gleam that stainless flower. 
The matron fills her crystal vase 
With gems that Summer lends, 
| Or groups them round the festal board 
To greet her welcome friends ; 
Her husband’s eye is on the skill | 
With which she decks his bower ; | 
And dearer is his praise to her, 
Than earth’s most precious flower. 
Frail gifts we call them, prone to fade 
| Ere the brief spring is o’er ; 
Though down the smitten strong man fall, 
Returning never more. 
Time wears away the arch of rock ; 
And rends the ancient throne, 
Yet back they come, unchang’d, as when 
On Eden’s breast they shone, 








