'552 THE DYING FLOWER. 



Alas! why did my leaves incline 



Unlo thy faithless ray ? 

 Tor while mine eye looked into thine, 



Thou filch'dst my life away. 

 Thou shalt not triumph o'er my death, 



My parting leaves I close 

 Upon myself — receive my breatli 



Not thou that caused my woes. 



— Yet dost thou melt my pride away, 



Change into tears my stone ! — 

 Receive my fleet life of a day, 



Thou endless one alone ! 

 Yes, thou hast made my pride to pass. 



Mine ire hast sunn'd away ; 

 All that I am, all that I was, 



I owe it to thy ray. 



Eacli zephyr of each balmy morn, 



That made me breathe perfume, 

 Each sportive moth on bright wing borne, 



That danced around my bloom. 

 Eacli shining eye that brighter shone 



My magic hues to see. 

 These purest joys I owe alone, 



Eternal One, to thee 1 

 As with thy stars thou didst begirth 



The never-fading blue. 

 So didst thou deck tl»y green of earth 



With blight flowers ever new. 

 One breatli I have not drawn in vain 



For thee — be it no sigh ! 

 One look I have for earth's fair plain. 



One for the welkin high. 



Thou world's warm-glowing heart, be spent 



My life's last pulse on thee! 

 Receive me, heaven's bright azure tent, 



My green tent breaks with me. 

 Hail to tliee. Spring, in glory bright ! 



Morn with thy thousand dyes, 

 '^Without regret I sink in night, 



Thoii^h without hope to rise. 



