THE FLOWERS.
The flowers! the flowers! I love ye, flowers;
Ye have a mystic voice
To speak unto my inmost soul
And make my heart rejoice.
Your charms illume the splendid halls
Where wealthy princes move,
And light the humble peasant's cot,
Like gleams of heavenly love.
Oh flowers, bright flowers! I feel within
My inmost heart, your power;
And know I see the light of Heaven,
Within a blooming flower.
Had I a lovely home amid
Some valley green and fair—
The flowers—sweet flowers—should ever gleam,
In star-like beauty there.