THE POETRY OF FLOWER 
Alas:! it’s no thy neebour sweet, 
The bonnie lark, companion meet! 
ewy weet ! q 
vv} ¢ breast, 
‘hen upward springing, blithe, to greet 
The purplin’ east. 
Cauld blew the bitter biting north 
Upon thy early, humble birth: 
Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth 
Amid the storm, 
Scarce rear’d above the parent earth, 
Thy tender form. 
The flaunting flowers our gardens yield, 
High sheltering woods and wa’s maun shield g 
But thou, beneath the random bield 
O’ clod or stane, 
Adorns the histie stibble-field, 
Unseen, alane. 
There, in thy scanty mantle clad, 
Thy coat pare sunward spread, 
Thou lifts thy unassuming head 
‘In humble guise ; 
But now the share uptears thy bed, 
t 
And low thou 1 lie oS 
Such is the fate of art aes maid 
e ru 
Sweet floweret of the rural shar 

PR 4 a ae ea aa ar cee lial aa” —*S 
at Sata 

