


POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
Gentle at home amid my friends I’d be, 
Like the high leaves upon the Holly tree. 
And should my youth, as youth is apt, I know, 
Some harshness show, 
All vain asperities I, day by day, 
Would wear away, 
Till the smooth temper of my age should be 
Like the high leaves upon the Holly tree. 
And as, when all the summer trees are seen 
So bright and green, 
The Holly leaves a sober hue display, 
Less bright than they ; 
But when the bare aud wintry woods we see, 
What then so cheerful as the Holly tree? 
So, serious should my youth appear among 
The thoughtless throng, 
So would I seem, among the young and gay, 
More grave than they, 
That, in my age, as cheerful I might be 
As the green winter of the Holly tree. 


