
POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
The truest wife by yonder brook 
Will roam, the mournful day, 
And hither cast the anxious look, 
: Long as immured I stay. 
Whene’er she breaks a small blue flower, 
And says “ Forget me not !” the power 
rest I feel, though far away. 
3 Dest 
er 
Yes, e’en though far, I feel its might, 
For true love joins us twain ; 
And therefore, ’mid the dungeon’s night, 
I still in life remain. 
Wt And sinks my heart at my hard lot, 
I but exclaim “ Forget-me-not !” 
And straight new life regain, 
THE ROSE-BUD. 
AN INCIDENT OF CHILDHOOD, 
How vividly bright at times appears 
The long lost scene of our early years, 
ed, As though childhood’s thoughts were embodied 
1. then, 
And sought a home in the soul again! 
One happy scene of Infancy 
I now remember vividly, 

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