WILD FLOWERS.

A FILBERT-EDGE with wild-brier overtwined,
And clumps of woodbine taking the soft wind
Upon their summer thrones; there too should be
The frequent checker of a youngling tree,

That with a score of bright-green brethren shoots
From the quaint mossiness of aged roots:

Round which is heard a spring head of clear waters,
Prattling so wildly of its lovely daughters,
The spreading bluebells: it may haply mourn
That such fair clusters should be rudely torn
From their fresh beds, and scatter'd thoughtlessly

By infant hands, left on the path to die.
Open afresh your round of starry folds,

Ye ardent marigolds !

Dry up the moisture from your golden lids,

For great Apollo bids

That in these days your praises should be sung
On many harps, which he has lately strung;
And when again your dewiness he kisses,
Tell him, I have you in my world of blisses :
So haply when I rove in some far vale,
His mighty voice may come upon the gale.
Here are sweet-peas, on tip-toe for a flight,
With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white,
And taper fingers catching at all things,
To bind them all about with tiny rings.
What next? A turf of evening primroses,
O'er which the mind may hover till it dozes;
O'er which it well might take a pleasant sleep,
But that 't is ever startled by the leap
Of buds into ripe flowers.

KEATS.

LABURNUM, rich

In streaming gold; syringa, iv'ry pure;
The scentless and the scented rose: this red,
And of an humbler growth, the other, tall,
And throwing up into the darkest gloom
Of neighb'ring cypress, or more sable yew,
Her silver globes, light as the foamy surf
That the wind severs from the broken wave.

The lilac, various in array, now white,

Now sanguine, and her beauteous head now set

With purple spikes pyramidal, as if,

Studious of ornament, yet unresolved

Which hue she most approved, she chose them all; Copious of flowers the woodbine, pale and wan,

But well compensating her sickly looks

With never-cloying odours, early and late.

COWPER.