[Picture: The Flower-pot man]
Here comes the old man with his flowers to sell,
Along the streets merrily going;
Full many a year I’ve remember’d him well,
With, “_Flowers_, _a growing_, _a blowing_!”
Geraniums, in dresses of scarlet and green;
Thick aloes, that blossom so rarely;
The long creeping cereus with prickles so keen;
Or primroses modest and early.
The myrtle dark green, and the jessamine pale,
Sweet scented and gracefully flowing,
This flower-man carries and offers for sale,
“_All flourishing_, _growing_, _and blowing_!”