140
THE DAY OF FLOWERS.
A MOTHER'S WALK WITH HER CHILD.
One spirit—His
Who wore the platted thorn with bleeding brows,
Rules universal nature.—Not a flower
But shews some touch, in freckle, freak, or stain,
Of his unrivalled pencil. He inspires
Their balmy odours, and imparts their hues,
And bathes their eyes with nectar.—
Happy who walks with him!
Cowper.
Come to the woods, my boy!
Come to the streams and bowery dingles forth,
My happy child! The spirit of bright hours
