TOKEN FLOWERS.

Oh, not the daisy, for the love of God! Take not the daisy; let it bloom apace Untouch'd alike by splendour or disgrace Of party feud. Its stem is not a rod; And no one fears, or hates it, on the sod. It laughs, exultant, in the Morning's face, And everywhere doth fill a lowly place, Though fraught with favours for the darkest clod. 'Tis said the primrose is a party flower, And means coercion, and the coy renown Of one who toil'd for country and for crown. This may be so! But, in my Lady's bower, It means content,—a hope,—a golden hour. Primroses smile; and daisies cannot frown!