TIME AND THE FLOWERS. 
Said Time, “ I cannot bear the flowers, 
They spoil the look of old decay ; 
They cover all my ruined towers, 
My fallen shrines and abbeys gray : 
I’ll cut them down—why should they grow ? 
I marvel Death upon his graves 
Allows so many buds to blow! 
O’er all my works the Wall-flower waves ! 
His scythe he sharpened as he spoke, 
And deeper frowned at every stroke. 
