LOVE AND THE THISTLE. AS CUPID was flying about one day, With the flowers and zephyrs in wanton play, He spied in the air, Floating here and there, A winged seed of the Thistle-flower, And merrily chased it from bower to bower. And young Love cried to his playmates, "See, I've found the true emblem-flower for me, For I am as light In my wavering flight As this feathery star of soft Thistle-down, Which by each of you zephyrs about is blown. See, how from a Rose's soft warm blush It flies, to be caught in a bramble bush ;- In my wand'rings, hie From beauty to those who have none, I trow; Reckless as Thistle-down, on I go." So the sly little God still flits away Mid earth's loveliest flow'ret's, day by day; |