BLOfifSOMS PALLING, ETC. 75 



A tint like snow, from the young Almond ? 



charms 



Strcw d lavishly around ; while, sick at heart, 

 The Peach, despairing mother, sees her babes 

 Dead at her feet. 



Hreuk forth in Hong, ye birds, 

 From your cool nests, or on the buoyant wing, 

 And be their comforters. 



Uphold their hearts 



With cheering descant of the season s prime, 

 When their bereavement shall be lost in joy. 

 Tell them that man, their culturer, oft beholds 

 His beauty and his pride, like theirs, depart; 

 But yet, from what he counted loss, doth reap 

 A more enduring gain. 



Yea, bid them bide 



In faith and hope, the chastening of this hour, 

 Yielding their fragrance to the tyrant winds 

 1 or Ciod remembereth them. 



Lift high your strain, 

 Minstrels of Heaven, afld ask the sorrowing 



trees 



If those pale petals fell not, where would bo 

 The glory of their fruitage ? or the praise 

 Of the Great Master at the Harvest Day ? 



