Wilt thou gaze with me on flowers,
And let their sparkling eyes,
Glancing brightly up to ours,
Teach us to be wise?

The pale narcissus tells of youth
Nurtured in purity and truth;
Violets on the moss-bank green,
Of sweet benevolence unseen;
A rose is blooming charity;
A snow-drop, fair humility;
Yon golden crocus, smiling sweetly,
Smiles, alas, to perish fleetly;
That hyacinth, with cluster'd bells,
Of sympathy in sorrow tells;
This young mimosa, as it trembles,
Affection's thrilling heart resembles;
And the glazed mirtle's fragrant bloom
Hints at a life that mocks the tomb.

What is a flower? a beauteous gem
Set in Nature's diadem,
A sunbeam o'er her tresses flung,
A word from her poetic tongue;
A silent burst of eloquence,
A plaything of Omnipotence;
The poet's eye sees much in these
To learn, and love, and praise, and please.