DIRGE OF FLOWERS. 
ANON. 
Bring Flowers to the captive’s lonely cell, 
They have tales of the joyous woods to tell, 
Of the free blue streams and the glowing sky, 
And the bright world shut from his languid 
eye ; 
They will bear him a thought of the sunny 
hours, 
And a dream of his youth—bring flowers, 
wild flowers. 
Bring flowers, fresh flowers, for the bride to 
wear, 
They were born to blush on her shining hair ; 
She is leaving the home of her childish mirth, 
She has bid farewell to her father’s hearth, 
Her place is now by another’s side ; 
Bring flowers for the locks of the fair young 
bride. 
Bring flowers, pale flowers, o’er the bier to 
shed, 
A crown for the brow of the early dead. 
2 A 
