ftattsg. 87 
Pansy.... Think of me. 
The Pansy, or Heart's-ease, is a beautiful variety of 
the Yiolet, differing from it in the diversity of its co¬ 
lours. In fragrance it is inferior to the Violet. Pansy 
is an old English corruption of the Erench Pensee. 
And there are Pansies, that's for thoughts." 
ShaJcspeare. 
CHILDHOOD. 
Sister, arise, the sun shines bright, 
The bee is humming in the air, ^ 
The stream is singing in the light, ^ 
The May-buds never looked more fair; 
Blue is the sky, no rain to-day: 
Get up, it has been light for hours, 
And we have not begun to play, 
Nor have we gathered any flowers. 
Time, who looked on, each accent caught, 
And said, “He is too young for thought." 
YOUTH. 
To-night, beside the garden-gate ? 
Oh, what a while the night is coming I 
I never saw the sun so late, 
No heard the bee at this time humming I 
I thought the flowers an hour ago 
Had closed their bells and sunk to rest: 
How slowly flies that hooded crow! 
How light it is along the west! 
' Said Time, “ He yet hath to be taught 
That I oft move too quick for thought." 
