HAREBELL. 
When glow-worm lamps illume the scene 
And silvery daisies dot the green, 
Thy flowers revealing, 
Perchance to soothe the fairy-queen, 
With faint sweet tones on night serene. 
Thy soft bells pealing. 
But most I love thine azure braid, 
When softer flowers are all decayed. 
And thou appearest 
Stealing beneath the hedgerow shade. 
Like joys that linger as they fade, 
Whose last are dearest. 
Thou art the flower of memory ; 
The pensive soul recals in thee 
The year’s past pleasures ; 
And, led by kindred thought, will flee, 
Till, back to careless infancy, 
The path she measures. 
Beneath autumnal breezes bleak, 
So faintly fair, so sadly meek, 
I’ve seen thee bending, 
Pale as the pale blue veins that streak 
Consumption’s thin, transparent cheek, 
With death-hues blending. 
Thou shalt be sorrow’s love and mine; 
The violet and the eglantine 
With spring are banished. 
T 2 
