Cjip rm. 49 
If spirits, pure as those who kneel 
Around the throne of light above, 
The power of beauty's spell could feel, 
And lose a heaven for woman's love,— 
What marvel that a heart like mine 
Enraptured by thy charms should be! 
Forget to bend at glory's shrine, 
And lose itself—ay, heaven—for thee! 
Memorial. 
Fain wodld I speak the thoughts I bear to thee, 
But they do choke and flutter in my throat, 
And make me like a child. 
Joanna Baillie. 
Cypress.... Mourning. 
The ancients consecrated the Cypress to the Fates, 
the Furies and Pluto. They placed it near tombs. 
The people of the East retain the same custom in the 
decoration of their cemeteries. The Turks plant the 
Cypress at the head and at the foot of the graves. 
According to Ovid, the Cypress derived its name from 
Cyparissos, an especial friend of Apollo’s, who, in 
grief at having inadvertently killed a favourite stag of 
his, prayed the gods that his mourning might be made 
perpetual, and was changed into a Cypress tree, the 
branches of which were thenceforward used at funerals. 
Lady dear! this history 
Is thy fated lot, 
Ever such thy watching 
For what cometh not, 
5 
