






THE POETRY OF FLOWERS, 
THE COWSLIP. 
Unrotprne to the breeze of May, 
‘The Cowslip greets the vernal ray ; 
The topaz and the ruby gem, 
Her blossom’s simple diadem ; 
And, as the dew-drops gently fall, 
They tip with pearls her coronal. 
In princely halls and courts of kings 
Its lustrious ray the diamond flings ; 
Yet few of those who see its beam, 
Amid the torch-light’s dazzling gleam, 
As bright as though a meteor shone, 
Can call the costly prize their own. 
But gems of every form and hue 
Are gl.tfering here in morning dew ; 
Jewels that all alike may share 
As freely as the common air; 
No nigyard hand, or jealous eye, 
Protects them from the passer by, 
Man to his brother shuts his heart, 
And Science acts a miser’s part ; 
But Nature, with a liberal hand, 
Flings wide her stores o’er sea and land, 
If gold she gives, not single grains 
Are scatter’d far across the plains ; 
But lo, the desert streams are roll’d 
O’er precious beds of virgin gold, 
If flowers she offers, wreaths are given, 
As countless as the stars of heaven: 

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