
THE POETY OF FLOWERS. 
uANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
BY H. W. LONGFELLOW. 
Spake full well, in language quaint and clder, 
One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, 
When he called the flowers so blue and golden, 
Stars, that in earth’s firmament do shine. 
Stars they are, wherein we read our history, 
As astrologers and seers of eld ; 
Yet not wrapp’d about with awful mystery, 
Like the burning stars, which they beheld. 
Wondrous truths, and manifold as wondrous, 
God hath written in those stars above; 
But not less in the bright flowerets under us 
Stands the revelation of his love. 
Bright and glorious is that revelation, 
Written all over this great world of ours 5 
Making evident our own creation, 
In these stars of earth,—these golden flowers, 
And the Poet, faithful and far-seeing, 
Sees alike in stars and flowers, a part 
Of the self-same, universal Being, 
Which is throbbir g in his brain and heart; 














Goreeo 
los 
Trem 
als 
lan 
hun 
lane 
ene 









