
FLOWERS. 
| Do not deny 
My last request, for I 
| Will be 
Thankful to you, or friends for me. 
Herrick. 
THE IVY. 
The Ivy, that staunchest and firmest friend, 
That hastens its succoring arm to lend 
To the ruined fane, where in youth it sprung, 
And its pliant tendrils in sport were flung, 
When the sinking buttress and mouldering 
tower 
Seem only the spectres of former power, 
Then the Ivy clusters around the wall, 
And for tapestry hangs in the moss-grown hall 
Striving in beauty and youth to dress 
; The desolate place in its loveliness ;— 
| In all seasons the Ivy is green and bright. 
Bright garlands of Ivy for Christmas night ! 














