12 AUGUST 1882, Page 15

POETRY.

FLORA.

O on that afternoon, that lane Where I pick'd flowers ! Never again Will common wild-flowers look so well,— So freshly blush the pimpernel, And modest blue and simple white Stand in the grass to such delight ! I pick'd my flowers for Flora's sake, Happy to have a chance to make A nosegay she might chance to see, And know that it was made by me. I found a baby oak-leaf, too, So I had green, white, red, and blue.

Il1;.;Ur PATMORE.