THE CHILD AND THE FLOWERS. 163 
Put by thy work, I pray thee, 
And come out, mother dear ! 
We used to buy these flowers, 
But they are growing here! 
Oh, mother! little Amy, 
Would have loved these flowers to see ;— 
Dost remember how we tried to get 
For her a pink sweet-pea? 
Dost remember how she loved 
Those rose-leaves pale and sere? 
I wish she had but lived to see 
The lovely roses here ! 
Put by thy work, dear mother, 
And wipe those tears away ! 
And come into the garden 
Before ’tis set of day! : 
