SPARE MY FLOWER. H spare my flower, my gentle flower, So soon its fleeting charms must lie Too like thy own. The breeze will roam this way to-morrow, And sigh to find its playmate gone; The bee will come its sweets to borrow, And meet with none. Oh spare! and let it still outspread Spare my Flower. Oh spare my flower! thou know'st not what Thy undiscerning hand would tear: A thousand charms, thou notest not, Lie treasured there. Not Solomon, in all his state, Was clad like nature's simplest child; Nor could the world combined create One flow'ret wild. Spare, then, this humble monument Its homage still. He made it who made nought in vain; Who bade it be. Oh spare my flower! for it is frail- Its moral fling. That moral thy reward shall be: Catch the suggestion, and apply "Go live like me," it cries; "like me, Soon, soon to die." LYTE. 133 SONG. JOW the lusty spring is seen; All love's emblems, and all cry, Yet, the lusty spring hath stayed; Every woman, every maid, And inviting men to taste; All love's emblems, and all cry, BEAUMONT. THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. N eastern lands they talk in flowers, And they tell in garland their loves and cares; Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers, On its leaves a mystic language bears. The rose is a sign of joy and love, Young blushing love in its earliest dawn; And the mildness that suits the gentle dove, From the myrtle's snowy flower is drawn. Innocence shines in the lily's bell, Pure as the heart in its native heaven; The silent, soft, and humble heart In the violet's hidden sweetness breathes; And the tender soul that cannot part, A twine of evergreen fondly wreathes. The cypress that daily shades the grave, Is sorrow that mourns her bitter lot, 'Then gather a wreath from the garden bowers, And tell the wish of thy heart in flowers. PERCIVAL. THE ROSARY. ONE asked me where the roses grew, I bad him not go seek ; But forthwith bade my Julia show A bud in either cheek. Some asked me where the rubies grow! And nothing I did say, But with my finger pointed to The lips of Julia. Some asked how pearls did grow, and where; Then spoke I to my girl To part her lips and shew them there, The quarrelets of pearl. HERRICK. |