












THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
Below a circling fence, its leaves are seen 
Wrinkled and keen ; 
No grazing cattle through their prickly round 
Can reach to wound, 
But as they grow where nothing is to fear, 
Smooth and unarm’d the pointless leaves appear 
—_e—- 
NARCISSUS. 
BY GRAY. 
Here young Narcissus o’er the fountain stood, 
And viewed his image in the crystal flood ; 
The crystal flood reflects his lovely charms, 
And the pleased image sttives to meet his arme, 
No nymph his inexperienced breast subdued, 
Echo in vain the flying boy pursued. 
Himeelf alone the foolish youth admires, 
And with fond look the smiling shade desires, 
O’er the smooth lake with fruitless tears he 
grieves: 
His spreading fingers shoot in verdant leaves: 
Through his pale veins green sap now gently flows 
And in a short-lived flower his beauty blows. 
Let vain Narcissus warn each female breast 
‘That beauty’s but a transient good at best; 
Like flowers, it withers with th’ advancing year, 
And age, liké winter, robs the blooming fair. 



















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