FLORA AND THALIA. 207 



Yet, rich as morn, of many a hue. 



When flushing clouds through darkness strike, 

 The Tulip's petals shine in dew, 



All beautiful, but none alike. 



Kings, on their bridal, might unrobe. 



To lay their glories at its foot ; 

 And queens their sceptre, crown, and globe. 



Exchange for blossom, stalk, and root. 



Here could I stand and moralise ; 



Lady, I leave that part to thee ; 

 Be thy next birth in Paradise, 



Thy life to come — eternity. 



MOXTGOMERT. 



THE WREATH. 



Weave a wreath of varied hues, 



Here are garlands twining. 



For the gay, the brightest choose, 



And drooping for the pining. 



" Lo'Dox Pride," for West-end beaux 



Or belles, as fancy ranges ; 



" Heart's-ease" too, in plenty glows, 



To meet Dame Fortune's changes. 



