
eh, 
00, 

THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
The triple cell, the two-fold seed, i 
A ceaseless treasure-house decreed, \ 
Whence aye thy race may grow, 
As from creation they have grown, 
While spring shall weave her flowery crown, 
Or vernal breezes blow ; 
Who forms thee thus, with unseen hand ? 
Who at creation gave command, i 
And will’d thee thus to be ; Hi 
And keeps thee still in being, through wi 
Age after age revolving! Who 
But the great God is he? 
Omnipotent, to work his will; i} 
Wise, who contrives each part to fill 
The post to each assign’d ; is 
Still provident, with sleepless care, 
To keep; to make thee sweet and fair 
For man’s enjoyment—kind ! 


‘‘ There is no God,’’ the senseless say :— Nn 
‘*O God! why cast’st thou us away ?”’ Sa 
Of feeble faith aud frail, 
‘he mourner breathes his anxious thought 5 
By thee a better lesson taught, 
Sweet lily of the vale! 
Yes, He who made and fosters thee, 
In reason’s eye perforce “nust be 
Of majesty divine 

