I 



FUCHSIA. 



But now, no more a stranger 

 Beneath our northern skies, 

 To thee nor fears nor sense of danger 

 From frosts and snows arise : 



And ne'er a garden sweet 



Within our favour' d Isle, 



But thou art there the eye to greet 



And shed a radiant smile. 



The modest, thus, and chaste 

 Take root in every soil ; 

 And eveiy lot by them is graced 

 Of pleasure or of toil ; — 



And who a higher rooms 

 In Heaven's high house shall share 

 Or what the flower a brighter bloom 

 In paradise shaU wear ? 



e St. Luke xiv. 10, 11. 





ZS 



