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EARLY FLOWERS. 
BY C. L. BANKS, 
HE tribes of early flowerets, 
| How beautiful they seem, 
ii) Like stars that come at sunset, 
Or fairies in a dream ! 
To music of the spring-tide 
They dance along the plain, 
And wile, with sunny gladness, 
The Summer back again. 

This earth, esteem’d a wilderness, 
Is made all Eden-bright, 
With these her holy offspring, 
Creations of the light ; 
As though some gentle angel, 
Commission’d love to bear, 
Had wander’d o’er the greensward, 
, And left its footprints there. 
Wherever rests the human eye, 
These infant glories spring, 
As though a blessing to the heart 
Of man they sought to bring ; 

