THE LAST AUTUMNAL WALK. 
285 
By marge of murmuring stream, thy fairy foot 
Shall sink in tufted violets instep deep; 
What time the cornel and the hawthorn cast 
Their snowy blossoms on the scented air, 
And every floral chrysalis awakes 
To life and beauty from its shrouded sleep. 
Meanwhile, dear friend, in our suburban cot, 
Thy favorite flowers shall bloom the Winter long, 
And day and night, with silent lips still breathe 
Sweet-scented thanks to thee; for in thy smiles 
They shall not miss the charm of sunny skies, _ 
Nor in thy household songs, remember more 
The song of birds, but deem ’tis Summer still. 
Thyself their Flora, from thy genial hand 
Shall fall the needed dews each coming morn 
Till vernal suns and voice of vernal choirs 
Shall call us forth to these dear wilds again ! 
