70 WITH HERBS AND FLOWERS 



Lo ! soon her glorious beauty she discovers : 

 Soon droops ; and sheds her leaves of faded hue ; 

 Can this be she, the flower, erewhile that drew 

 The heart of thousand maids, of thousand longing 

 lovers ? 



So fleeteth in the fleeting of a day, 



Of mortal life the green leaf and the flower, 



And not, though Spring return to every bower, 



Buds forth again soft leaf or blossom gay. 



Gather the Rose ! beneath the beauteous morning 



Of this bright day that soon will over-cast ; 



O gather the sweet Rose, that yet doth last ! 



TOHQUATO TASSO. 



THE DYING FLOWER 



" DROOP not, poor flower ! There's hope for thee 



The spring again will breathe and burn, 



And glory robe the kingly tree, 



Whose life is in the sun's return ; 



And once again its buds will chime 



Their peal of joy from viewless bells, 



Though all the long dark winter-time 



They mourned within their dreary cells." 



" Alas, no kingly tree am I, 



No marvel of a thousand years : 



I cannot dream a winter by, 



And wake with song when spring appears ! 



