





















THE POETRY OF FLOWERS, 
NIGHT-BLOOMING FLOWERS, Hi 
BY JULIET H. LEWIS. 
Fair buds! I’ve wander’d day by day 
To this sequester’d spot, 
That I might catch your earliest smiles, 
And yet, you open not. 
The morning mists are scattered now, 
No cloud is in the sky, 
The sun, like a benignant king, 
Smiles from his throne on high; 
While birds, in gushing melody, 
Are offering homage up ; 
And sister flowers, beneath his gaze, 
} Ope wide each fragile cup. 
Vhy shut you then your incense in, 
And hide your loveliness, 
As though no one might share your joy 
Beneath the sun’s caress ? 


Now wake you, ’tis the sunset hour, GN 
‘The day-king has gone down; He 
Yet still, above the mountain’s top, 
Is seen his brilliant crown; 
Awake you! if his gleaming gems, 
His bands of glittering gold, 
nals His glorious, life-like radiance 
Departing, you'd kehold. 
