THE FABLES OF FLORA. 17 



" When low this golden form shall fall 

 " And spread with dust its parent plain; 



" That dust shall hear his genial call, 

 " And rise, to glory rise again. 



*'* To thee, my gracious power, to thee 

 " My love, my heart, my life are due! 



" Thy goodness gave that life to be; 

 '' Thy goodness shall that life renew. 



'' Ah me! one moment from thy sight 

 " That thus my truant-eye should stray! 



" The God of glory sets in night; 

 " His faithless flower has lost a day." 



Sore grieved the flower, and drooped her head; 



And sudden tears her breast bedewed; 

 Consenting tears the sisters shed. 



And, wrapt in holy wonder, viewed. 



ifijx 



