THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. We || 
be Our little gardens, side by side, || 
Each border’d round with London pride 
Some six feet long, and three feet wide 
To us a large estate 
The apple = the damson trees, 
The cottage shelter for our bees; | 
I see them—and beyond all these, 
A something dearer still; 
ng 
I see an eye serenely blue, 

A cheek of girlhood’s freshest hue 
A buoyant heart, a spirit true, 
Alike in good and ill. 
bes Sweet sister, thou wert all to me, 
And I sufficient friend for thee: 
Where was a happier twain than we 
Who had no mate beside ? 
Like wayside flowers in merry May, 
Our pleasures round about us lay ; {| 
A ore morni ing had our day, 
Whate’ 3: 

— a os —— a et 



