62 FLORA'S DIAL. 
&pril as. 
YELLOW YIOLET. — Rare Worth. 
A maid whom there are none to praise, 
And very few to love. , 
A violet by a mossy stone, 
Half hidden from the eye! 
Fair as a star, when only one 
Is s hinin g in the sky. Wordsworth. 
ftpril 29. 
WORMWOOD. — Absence. 
How can the glintin sun shine bright ? 
How can the wimplin burnie glide ? 
Or flowers adorn the ingle side 1 
Or birdies deign 
The woods, and streams, and vales to chide ? 
Eliza’s gane! 
I’m lanely now without ye, dearie ! 
And oft my een are wet, and tearie ; — 
I cannot mak mysel feel cheerie, 
I try in vain, — 
I ! m sick, and lane, and sad, and wearie, 
Eliza’s gane! J. W. H. 
