













THE POETKY OF FLOW 

RS. 
Yo, no; this sorrow shown 
By your tears shed, 
W ould have this leeture read; 
That things of greatest, so of meanest w wth, 
Conceived with crief are, and with tears 
oS 
forth. 
THE DAISY. 
BY JOHN MASON GOOD. 
Nor worlds on worlds, in phalanx deep, 
Need we to prove that God is here ; 
The daisy, fresh from winter’s sleep, 
Tells of His hand in lines as clear. 
For who but he who arch’d the skies, 
And pour’d the day-spring’s living flee 
Wondrous alike in all He tries, 
Could rear the daisy’s purple bud; 
Mould its green cup, its wiry stem, 
Its fringed b 
And cut t 
That, set 
£ kL, SO 
order nicely spin, 



7 , 
ld-embossec 



brought 
