

FLORAL POESY. 
SWEET PEAS. 
(Delicate Pleaswres.) 
T is singular that few of our poets have celebrated 
these exquisite flowers. We know only these pretty 
lines of Keats, which exactly portray them : 
“Here are sweet peas, on tiptoe for a flight ; 
With wings of gentle flush o’er delicate white, 
And taper fingers catching at all things, 
To bind them all about with tiny rings.” 
VV Y. 
(Friendship.) 
OORE says : 
‘«* When the ivy of friendship is green in our souls.” 
Dickens assumes the same meaning. 
THE IVY GREEN. 
Cc, DICKENS, 
Ou, a dainty plant is the ivy green, 
That creepeth o’er ruins old ; 
Of right choice food are his meals, I ween, 
In his cell so lone and cold. 

