205 
THE CHRISTMAS ROSE. 
Flowers as the changing seasons roll along 
Still wait on earth, and added beauties lend: 
Around the smiling Spring a lovely throng 
With eager rivalry her steps attend ; 
Others with Summers brighter glories blend 
Some grâce mild Autumn’s more majestic mien; 
While some few lingering blooms the brow befriend 
Of hoary Winter, and with grâce serene 
Enwreathe the king of storms with mercy’s gentle sheen. 
Babton. 
With what different feelings do we place in our 
wreath the Christmas Rose, the last flower of the 
year, to those with which, in commencing our task, 
we gathered the Winter Aconite. On engaging in 
any plan which we propose shall occupy a length- 
ened space of time, we naturally feel with more than 
ordinary force the uncertainty of life. We cast an 
anxious gaze towards the path we are about to 
tread ; and, though hope may shed on it her brightest 
ray, the obscurity which veils it is not dispelled. If, 
as in the présent instance, we are permitted to 
T 
