
Brought us in their white laps down, ’twixt theis 
Of young Narvissus, and sad Ei ho’s 

THE POETRY OF FLOWERS, 
O! pray believe that angels 
From those blue dominions, ON! 
golden pinions. 
wu 
—_@——- 
THE NARCISSUS. 


BY JOHN KEATS. now 
Mit 
Wuar first inspired a bard of old to sing cd 
Narcissus pining o’er the untainted spring ? Ah 
In some delicious ramble he had found Heth 
A little space, with boughs all woven round ; Ty 
And in the midst of all a clearer pool mi 
Than e’er reflected in its pleasant cool He 
The blue sky, here and there serenely peeping, 
Vhrough tendril wreaths fantastically creeping. le 
And on the bank a lonely flower he spied, 1 
A meek and forlorn flow er, with nought of pride, The 
Drooping its beauty o’er the watery clearness, q 
lo woo its own sad image into nearness: No, 
Deaf to light Zephyrus it would not move, B 
But still would seem to droop, to pine, to love. Th 
0 while the poet stood in this Sweet spot, ( 
Some fainter gleamings o’er his fancy shot ; 
Nor was it long ere he had told the tale hi 
vale. 
