INTRODUCTION. 
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“Bring flowers, to strew in the conqueror’s path— 
He hath shaken the thrones with his stormy wrath I 
He comes with the spoil of nations back ; 
The vines lie crushed in his chariot’s track, 
The turf looks red where he won the day— 
Bring flowers to die in the conqueror’s way! 
“Bring flowers to the captive’s lonely cell,—• 
They have tales of the joyous wood to tell; 
Of the free blue streams, and the glowing sky, 
Of the bright world shut from his-languid eye; 
They will bear him a thought of the sunny hours, 
And a dream of his youth—bring him flowers, wild 
flowers ! 
“ Bring flowers, fresh flowers, for the bride to wear! 
They were horn to blush in her shining hair. 
She is leaving the homo of her childhood’s mirth, 
She hath bid farewell to her father's hearth; 
Her place is now by another’s side— 
Bring flowers for the locks of the fair young bride ! 
“Bring flowers, pale flowers, on the bier to shed 
A crown for the brow of the early dead ; 
For this through its leaves hath the white rose burst; 
For this in the woods was the violet nursed. 
Though they smile in vain for what once was ours, 
They are love’s last gift—bring ye flowers, pale 
flowers! 
