THE POESY OF FLOWERS. 241 



TO A WITHERED ROSE. 



Pale flower pale, fragile, faded flower 



What tender recollections swell, 

 What thoughts of deep and thrilling power 



Are kindled in thy mystic spell ? 



A charm is in thy faint perfume, 



To call up visions of the past, 

 Which, through my mind's o'ershadowing gloom, 



' Rush like the rare stars, dim and fast.' 



And loveliest shines that evening hour, 

 More dear by time and sorrow made, 



When thou wert culled, (' Love's token flower!') 

 And on my throbbing bosom laid. 



Sweet thoughts and hallowed sympathies, 

 That shun the hours of worldly jar, 



Unfold beneath the silent skies, 



Like flowers that love the evening star. 



And fancy, that, supine and dullj 



Slumbers on folded wings all day, 

 Then waking, wild and beautiful, 



Soars like the unprisoned bird away. 



On eve's pale brow, one star burned bright, 

 Like heavenward hope, whose soothing dream 



Is veiled from pleasure's dazzled sight, 

 To shine on sorrow's diadem. 



A lingering halo in the west 



Poured golden hues o'er tower and tree; 

 But loveliest did its radiance rest, 



With tenderest beam, sweet flower, on thee. 



Bright as the tears thy beauty wept, 



The dew-drops on thy petals lay, 

 Till evening's silver winds had swept 



T'hy cheek, and kissed them all away. 

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