THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 17 (| 
1] 
Shall turn to the source of Truth’s far-beam ing I 

how triumphant, shail be our 
emotion, | 
When the bright ‘ Sun of Righteousness’ bursts 
on our gaze. 
ge 
THE ROSE AND THE GAUNTLET. | 
BY JOHN STERLING. 
Low spake the Knight to the Pes asant girl, 
‘T tell thee sooth—I am belte Earl ; [| 
ed 
Fly with me from this garden small, 
And thou shall sit in my castle’s hall. 
““Thou shalt have pomp, and wealth, and 
pleasure, 
pays beyond thy fancy’s measure ; | 
Here with my sword and horse I stand, 
To bear thee away to my distant land. || 
‘Take, thou fairest! this full-blown rose, || 
A token of Love that as ripely blows.”? 
With his glove of steel he plucked the token, | 
But it fell from his gauntlet crushed and broken, | 

