Where morning paints the orient skies, Sweet as in youth its balmy breath O, whence could such a plant have sprung! DECISION OF THE FLOWER. BY L. E. LANDON. AND with scarlet poppies, around like a bower, The maiden found her mystic flower. 66 Now, gentle flower, I pray thee tell If my lover loves me, and loves me well: He loves not-he loves me he loves me not- THE SNOW-DROP. BY MARY ROBINSON. THE Snowdrop, Winter's timid child, A beauteous gem appears. All weak and wan with head inclined, Where'er I find thee, gentle flower, Thou still art sweet and dear to me! For I have known the cheerless hour, Have seen the sunbeams cold and pale, Have felt the chilling wintry gale, And wept and shrunk, like thee! DAFFODILS. FAIR Daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon; As yet the early rising sun Has not attained his noon : Stay, stay Until the hastening day Has run But to the even-song, And, having pray'd together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay as ye, We have as fleet a spring, We die As your hours do, and dry Like to the summer's rain, Or as the pearls of morning's dew, THE SHEPHERD TO THE FLOWERS. BY SIR WALTER RALEIGH. SWEET Violets, love's paradise, that spread Upon the gentle wing of some calm.breathing wind, That plays amidst the plain! If, by the favour of propitious stars, you gain, Such grace as in my lady's bosom place to find, Be proud to touch those places: And when her warmth your moisture forth doth wear, Whereby her dainty parts are sweetly fed, You, honours of the flowry meads, I pray, You pretty daughters of the earth and sun, With mild and seemly breathing straight display My bitter sighs, that have my heart undone HEART'S-EASE. BY SHAKSPEARE. I SAW, Flying between the cold moon and the earth, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet marked I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, The juice of it, on sleeping eyelids laid, |