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tected with a Father's care, that lonely flower. 

 Behold, too, the simple wall-flower ! 



Cheerful 'midst Desolation's sadness thou 



Fair flower, art wont to grace the mouldering pile, 

 And brightly bloom o'er Ruin, like a smile 



Reposing calm on Age's furrowed brow. 

 Sweet monitor ! an emblem sure I see 

 Of virtue, and of virtue's power in thee. 



For though thou cheerest the dull ruin's gloom, 

 Still when thou'rt found upon the gay parterre, 

 There art thou sweetest fairest of the fair ; 



So virtue, while it robs of dread the tomb, 



Shines in the crown that youth and beauty wear, 

 Brightest of all the gems that glitter there. 



And also view the passion-flower how delicate 

 and how fair! A plant of matchless elegance, 

 it surely is a meet emblem of that we hold most 

 dear : 



Its tender shoots, fostered with care, extend 



Far in festooned luxuriance, 

 Its drooping flowers, too, blend, 



Sweet mixture ! modesty and loveliness ; .& 

 But more when closely viewed, this flower appears 

 To bear the sacred mark of sacred tears, 



Adding to the plant's beauty holiness ! 



How like this flower can woman be ; so fair ! 



So beautiful ! too delicate her mind 

 Would seem, the world's rude with'ring frosts to bear 



Without some guardian's help, round whom to bind 



Its tendrils in pure trusting confidence. 

 When rightly trained her blossoms bloom, they shine 

 In more than beauty's lustre ; they combine 



With earthly charms, celestial innocence, 

 Breathing of sacred things ; yet, like that flower, alone 

 To those who view her near, her holiness is known. 



Still after all, perchance, it is but very childish- 



