CEREUS. 
219 
Why hide thy loveliness from mortal eye, 
Why pour thy fragrance to the unconscious 
night 1 
—Thou art, alas! too exquisitely fair, 
Too pure for Earth’s corrupted denizens! 
Yet not in vain thy odoriferous breath, 
And beauty all unearthly : He who thus 
Hath fashion’d thee, a chaste and midnight gem; 
Who stamp’d thee with the lineaments of 
grace, 
But veil’d thy birth, and short-liv'd bloom in 
darkness; 
Some end beneficent design’d, though far 
Beyond or human ken or comprehension !— 
Earth’s lowliest herb is eloquent of Him, 
The Great Supreme ! and thou, mysterious 
flower, 
Fair glory of the night! might Fancy give 
Thy voice interpretation, couldst unfold 
Why form’d so fair, and why ordain’d to spend 
Thy sweets nectareous in nocturnal gloom. 
NIGHT-FLOWERING CEREUS. 
ANON. 
Now departs day’s gairish light— 
Beauteous flower, lift thy head 1 
U 
