Polyanthus—Pride of P.iches. 
EALTH, and the high estate of pride, 
With what untimely speed they glide, 
How soon depart. 
Bid not the shadowy phantom stay, 
The vassals of a mistress they, 
Of fickle heart. 
}VlLLOW-pORSAKEN, 
I’ lightsome heart I pu’d a rose, 
Fu’ sweet upon its thorny tree, 
And my fause luver stole my rose, 
But, ah ! he left the thorn wi’ me ! 
Bui ns, 
These gifts in Fortune’s hands are found ; 
Her swift revolving wheel turns round, 
And they are gone ! 
No rest th’ inconstant goddess knows, 
But changing, and without repose. 
Still hurries on. 
Longfellow. 
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