ON PLANTING A TULIP ROOT. 67 



Yet, rich as morn of many a hue, 



When flushing clouds through darkness strike. 

 The Tuhp's petals shine in dew. 



All beautiful — but none alike. 



Kings, on their bridal, might unrobe 



To lay their glories at its foot ; 

 And Queen's their sceptre, crown and globe, 



Exchange for blossom, stalk and root. 



Here could I stand and moralize ; 



Lady, I leave that part to thee ; 

 Be thy next birth in Paradise, 



Thy hfe to come eternity ! % 



J. M. 



