FLORA’S DIAL. 47 
Jitard) 27. 
FIR TREE. — Elevation. 
Once did I weep and groan, 
Drink tears, draw loathed breath, 
And all for love of one 
Who did effect my death ! 
But now, thanks to disdain ! 
I live, relieved of pain. 
For sighs, — I singing go ; 
I bum not as before, — oh no, no, no ! 
Drummond. 
Jtlard) 28. 
SWEET BRIAR. — Poetry. 
Star of the golden ray, 
That on thy blazing axle-tree art wheeling ! 
Before thy solemn form my soul is kneeling ; 
Bright Harbinger of Day ! 
Thou art a type of what I fain would be. 
* * * * 
Give me the Poet’s Lyre ! 
And as the seraph in his orbit sings, 
0, may I strike the heaven-attuned strings, 
With a seraphic fire ! 
With music fill the mighty dome of Mind, 
And the rapt souls of men, in music brightly bind ! 
J. W. H. 
