FLORA’S DIAL. 163 
IHceentber 7. 
DIOSMA. — Good for nothing. 
He that loves a rosy cheek, 
Or a coral lip admires ; 
Or from star-like eyes doth seek 
Fuel to maintain his fires ; 
As old Time makes these decay, 
So his flames must waste away. 
But a smooth and steadfast mind, 
Gentle thoughts and calm desires, 
Hearts with equal love combined, 
Kindle never-dying fires. 
Where these are not, I despise 
Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes. 
Carew. 
^December S. 
ALTHEA. — Dying for love. 
My heart is sad and lonely, 
With weariness I pine ; 
Would thou wert here, mine only, — 
Would I were wholly thine ! 
My eyes are filled with sorrow, 
My heart will surely break ! 
Wilt thou not come to-morrow ? 
I ’m dying for thy sake ! 
H. J. H 
