FLOWERS.

FLOWERS.
394.7

Of all the grace that nature flings
So lavish on this world of ours,
Her fairest and her favorite things,
What can compare with flowers?

They come all-honored and all-blest-
They come with looks of pleasant cheer,
Waking sweet chords in every breast,
Kind nature doves to hear,

The child who marks their glad re- turn,
Thence measures life’s delighted prime,
And grieves in later years to learn
A sadder rule of time.

Woman, the genius and the queen Of all that’s gracious, good and fair,
Teels as she walks that world serene,
Her dearest empire there.

And while one thought of love re- mains
To soothe and charm man’s ruder powere:
He’ll welcome all their varied trains,
And bless the time of flowers.
-George Morine.