7 OCTOBER 1882, Page 13



WHAT flowers I had in one fair knot were bound, And so I laid them on a public stall, Wondering would any one take note at all, Or taking note, to praise them would be found.

A keen-eyed critic turned the nosegay round, Then cried, "No true flower's, these 1" and let it fall: " Mere weeds that grow against the Church's wall And what coarse thread about the stalks is wouud 1" 'Tis true, I fear me, dandelions and grass I culled, mistaking them for garden bloom, And half-believing that they so might pass ; And now my critic has pronounced my doom, Half-undeceived I shall not grudge my lot, If friends may find one true Forget-me-not. I.