102 
FLORAL POESY. 
All the soul forth flowing 
In that rich perfume. 
All the proud life glowing 
In that radiant bloom, 
Have they no place but here, beneath th’ o’er- 
shadowing tomb ? 
Crown’st thou but the daughters 
Of our tearful race ? —■ 
Heaven’s own purest waters 
Well might bear the trace 
Of thy consummate form, melting to softer grace. 
Will that clime infold thee 
With immortal air ? 
Shall we not behold thee 
Bright and deathless there ? 
In spirit-luster clothed, transcendently more fair ? 
Yes ! my fancy sees thee 
In that light disclose. 
And its dream thus frees thee 
From the mist of woes. 
Darkening thine earthly bowers, 0 bridal, royal rose 1 
THE ROSE. 
elton’s specimens. 
Did Jove a queen of flowers decree. 
The rose the queen of flowers should be. 
Of flowers the eye ; of plants the gem ; 
The meadow’s blush ; earth’s diadem ; 
Glory of colors, on the gaze 
Lightening in its beauty’s blaze; 
