Unpromising that wrap them. Crowding leaves
Of glistening green, and clustering bright flowers
Of purple, in whose cups throughout the day
The humming-bird wantons boldly, wave around
And woo the gentle eye and delicate touch.
This is the dwelling, and 'twill be to thee
Quiet's especial temple.
W. G. Simms.
59. That dear old home!
Something of old ancestral pride it keeps,