THE VASE OF FLOWERS. 



BY lANTHE, 



Gay treasure-house of every sweet, 



Where loveliness and perfume meet ; 



Where beauty of each form and dye 



Wooes the young breeze with tresses flying, 



And pouring forth its bosom sigh, 



Is far more cherished for its sighing — 



Here the proud heart may lessons find 



Of lowliness and peace of mind ; 



May hear of fame and meekness met 



In the retiring Violet : 



Here flowers which court the warm Sun's rays, 



And die in its too ardent gaze, 



Whisper a moral, if we turn 



When Nature speaks, to hear and learn. 



Each bursting bud, each opening leaf 



Some emblem yields of joy or grief. 



How like the heart wherein are cast 



Bright hopes too fair and frail to last. 



Are all the fresh and fragrant flowers 



That blossom in this world of ours. 



They bloom to fade — but fade to bloom. 



While virtue will survive the tomb. 



