
as’ | 
THE POETRY OF FLOWERS, 
DECISION OF THE FLOWER. 
BY L. E. LANDON. 
Anp with scarlet poppies, around like a bower, 
The maiden found her mystic flower. 
‘* Now, gentle flower, I pray thee tell 
If my lover loves me, and loves me well: 
So may the fall of the morning dew 
Keep the sun from fading thy tender blue, 
Now I number the leaves for my lot— 
He loves not—he loves me—he loves me not— 
He loves me—yes, thou last leaf, yes— 
I'll pluck thee not for the last sweet guess! 
He loves me !””—‘‘ Yes,”’ a dear voice sigh’d 
And her lover stands by Margaret’s side. 
ss, 
THE SNOW-DROP. 
BY MARY ROBINSON. 
THE snowdrop, Winter’s timid child, 
Awakes to life, bedew’d with tears, 
And flings around its fragrance mild; 
And, where no rival flowerets bloom, 
Amidst the bare and chilling gloom, 
A, beauteous gem appears. 
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