


































POETRY OF FLOWERS. 

THE MARYGOLD. 
BY G. THERS. 
Wuen with a serious musing, I behold 
The grateful and obs equious Marygold, 
How duly, every morning, she ee 
Her open breast when Pheebus spreads his rays‘ 
How she observes him in his daily walk, 
Still bending tow’rds him her sm all slender stalk ; 
How, when he down declines, she droops and 
mourns 
Bedew’d as by ere with tears, till he returns; 
And how she veils her flowers when he is gone, 
As if she scorned to be look’d upon 
By an inferior eye; or did contemn 
To wait upon a meaner light th ee him: 
When this I meditate, methinks the flowers 
Have spirits far more generous than ours, 
And give us fair examples to despise 
The servile fawnings and idolatries 
Wherewith we court these earthly things below 
Which merit not the service we bestow, 
But O, my God! though grovelling I appear 
Upon the ground, and have a root ting here 
Lh hales me downward, yet in my desire 
that which is above me I navies 
ica all my best affections sf pr 
To Him that is the Sun ol 

ea 
5S 




FNTECOUSN ESS. 





