





THE POETRY OF FLOWERS 
SONGS AND CHORUS OF THE 
FLOWERS. 
BY LEIGH HUNT. 
ROSES. 
We are blushing roses. 
Bending with our fulness, 
*Midst our close-capp’d sister buda 
Warming the green coolness, 
Whatsoe’er of beauty 
Yearns and yet reposes, 
Blush, and bosom, and sweet breath, 
Teok a shape in roses. 
Hold one of us lightly,—- 
See from what a slender 
Stalk we bower in heavy blooms, 
And roundness rich and tender: 
Know you not our only 
Rival fiower,—the human? 
Loveliesi weight on lightest foot, 
Joy-abundant woman? 


Wp ar 
The 
Nature 
i le 
Dyer s 
Hold 
Youn 
nl 
SS E: 
Sea rE 
= pt ee 


Neate 

