

POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
God’s simple common things I love— 
My primrose, such as thee! 
T love the fireside of my home, 
Because all sympathies, 
‘The feelings fond of every day, 
Around its circle rise. 
And while admiring all the flowers 
That summer suns can give, 
Within my heart the primrose swect 
In lowly love doth live! 
LOVE SHUT OUT OF A FLOWER- 
GARDEN, 
Cos the porch and bar the door! 
Onward may thy footsteps stray : 
Never more in idle hour 
Bend thou here tly treacherous way. 
Heart’s-ease trembles all around, 
As thy wild breath wanders by ; 
Roses to thy bosom bound— 
Yield their latest, sweetest sigh. 
Cruel boy !—abjured and scorned, 
Here thy blushing trophies glow ; 
191 T 


















