Wild Flowers Poem by Janet Hamilton

The fragrant dewy rose,
The lily pure and pale,
Each flower the garden shows,
To charm my spirit fail;
Their beauties I admire,
Their fragrance I inhale-
Flowers of my fond desire,
Ye bloom in wood and vale!


I love the tender bloom
On Nature's blushing face-
The violet's soft perfume,
The cowslip's drooping grace;
The hyacinth's azure bells,
Primrose in paley gold,
Starring the woody dells,
And gemming mead and wold;


Laburnum wreaths of gold,
Accacia blossoms white,
Rho'dendron's crimson fold,
All beauteous to the sight;
The lilac soft and fair,
Green laurel's glossy sheen-
My heart will not compare
With Scotia's shrubs, I ween.


How fair the milk-white thorn,
How rich her fragrant breath
On evening breezes borne!
How sweet the blooming heath-
Old Scotia's emblem dear-
In regal purple dress'd!
Her fragrant bells I wear
With pride upon my breast.


The eglantine that winds
Her slender flowery arms
Round some hoar trunk, and binds
The sense with honey'd charms;
And sweeter, fairer still,
The flush of wilding roses,
That Nature's own sweet will
In copse and dell discloses.


I love the bonnie broom,
Whose golden tresses play
O'er the mead where daisies bloom,
And maidens come to May!
I love thee, land of mine-
Thy every shrub and flower
I in my heart enshrine,
And with my love endower!