


THE POETRY OF FLOWERS, 

















| When true 
|| And fond ones are flown, 
Oh! who would inhabit 
This cold world alone ? 
| 
| 
' op 
|| THE RHODORA. 
if | LINES OY BEING ASKED, WHENCE IS THE FLOWER { 
it | 
| 
f BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 
| 
} | 
: | In May, when séa-winds pierced our solitudes, 
\| found the fresh Rhodora in the woods, 
|| Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook, 
; | 
! To please the desert and the sluggish brook ; 
The purple petals, fallen in the pool, 
| Made the black waters with their beauty gay; 
Young Raprwaen might covet such a school : 
i| The lively show beguiled me from my way. 

Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why 
This charm is wasted on the marsh and sky, 
| Dear, tell them, that if eyes were made for seeing 
|| Then beauty is its own excuse for being. 
Why, thou wert there, O, rival of the rose! 
I never thous never knew, 





