



FLORAL POESY. 
How like this flower can woman be, so fair ! 
So beautiful ! too delicate her mind 
Would seem, the world’s rude withering frost to bear 
Without some guardian’s help, round whom to bind 
Its tendrils in pure trusting confidence. 
When rightly trained her blossoms bloom, they shine 
In more than beauty’s luster ; they combine 
With earthly charms, celestial innocence, 
Breathing of sacred things: yet, like that flower, alone 
To those who view her near, her holiness is known. 
HOLLY; 
. (Foresight.) 
‘*T, in this wisdom of the holly-tree, can emblems see.”—SouTHEY. 
HIS tree is sacred to Christmas and domestic 
mirth. 
THE HOLLY-TREE. 
SOUTHEY. 
O READER ! hast thou ever stood to see 
The holly-tree ? 
The eye that contemplates it well perceives 
Its glossy leaves, 
Ordered by‘an Intelligence so wise 
As might confound the atheist’s sophistries. 

