FLORA AND THALIA. 



THE DAHLIA. 



Though scver'd from its native clime, 

 Where skies are ever bright and clear, 



And nature's face is all sublime, - 

 And beauty clothes the fragrant air, 

 The Dahlia will each glory weal-, 



With tints as bright, and leaves as green ; 



And winter in his savage mien, 



May breathe forth storm, — yet she will bear 



With all : — and in the summer ray, 



With blossoms deck the brow of day. 



And thus the soul — if Fortune cast 

 Its lot to live in scenes less bright, — 



Should bloom amid the adverse blast ; — 

 Nor suffer sorrow's clouds to blight 

 Its outward beauty — inward light. 



Thus should she live and flourish still. 



Though misery's frosts might strive to kill 

 The germ of hope within her quite : — 



Thus should she hold each beauty fast, 



And bud and blossom to the last. 



WM. MARTIN. 



