

THE LANGUAGE OF FLOIWERS. 37 

Mustard Seed uo. Lndifference. 
Myrobalan- s.i) sien i an Ponto, 
Miyirii:. Gah! Zt AMty eects me eates. 
Myrtle: aan fad Sel Bh, ote Blows 

| Flowers of all hue are struggling into glow 
| Along the blooming fields; yet their sweet | 
strife 
Melts inte one harmonious concord. Lo, 
Where winds the lone path through the 
pastures green, 
Broad tapest’ring summer fields! The ; 
labouring bee ‘ 
Hums round me, and on hesitating wing, \ 
O’er the red clover, tremulously seen, 
Hovers the butterfly. Save these, all life 
Sleeps in the golden sunlight’s steady sheen. 
E’en from the west no breeze the cull’d airs 
bring ; 
Hark ! in the calm aloft I hear the skylark 
sing. 
From ‘ The Walk,’ by SCHILLER. 



OUS: Si 
































