FLORA AND THALIA. 57 



TO THE EVENING PRIMROSE. 



Fhom childhood I have lov'd thee more, pale flower, 

 Than all the garden's gayest boast and pride ; 



For thine has ever been my fav'rite hour, 

 The quiet, pensive, twilight eventide. 



And I have watch'd thy beauteous leaves unfold, 

 Soon as the sun has brightly sunk to rest, 



Opening thy buds to meet the moonlight cold, 

 And therefore 'twas, sweet flower, I lov'd thee 

 best 



Memory, the moon, and thou, my friends have been. 

 When other friends were scattered wide and far ; 



And now I value not night's brightest scene, 

 If wanting thee, my chosen Evening Star, 



F. R. ELLIOTT. 



