FLORAL CEREMONIES. 187 



But like the lotus, whose soft depths 



Receive the morning sun ; 

 The true fond flower still looks to heaven, 



Though light and day are done. 



And she, amid her gladder friends, 



Seems pensive on the strand ; 

 And keeps her fairy bark unlaunched 

 Beside her trembling hand. 



Why should she send her fairy freight 



To question future pain ? 

 She knows her utter misery 



She loves, and loves in vain 



I pray his pardon he who traced 



The graceful forms I see ; 

 Oh, magic painter to thy skill 



The spirit yields its key. 



The treasures of these distant lands 



Are given to thy will ; 

 But thou hast yet a dearer charm 



The heart obeys thee still. 

 12* 



