plants and tree;
No man so great, no child so small,
That from his eye can flee.
THE CHILD AND THE FLOWERS.
Put up thy work, dear mother;
Dear mother, come with me,
For I've found within the garden
The beautiful sweet-pea!
And rows of stately hollyhocks
Down by the garden-wall,
All yellow, white and crimson,
So many-hued and tall!
And bending on their stalks, mother,
Are roses white and red;
[Illustration: "Put up thy work, dear Mother."]
And pale-stemmed balsams all a-blow,
On every garden-bed.
Put up thy work, I pray thee,
And come out, mother dear!
We used to buy these flowers,
But they are growing here!
O, mother! little Amy
Would have loved these flowers to see;
Dost remember how we tried to get
For her a pink sweet-pea?
Dost remember how she loved
Those rose-leaves pale and sere?
I wish she had but lived to see
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