Floral Poetry. 
69 
And is it not thus 
With each hope of the heart ? 
With all its best feelings, 
Thus will they depart. 
They’ll go forth to the world 
On the wings of the air, 
Rejoicing and hoping; 
But what will be there ? 
False lights to deceive, 
False friends to delude, 
Till the heart in its sorrow’s 
Left only to brood. 
Over feelings crushed, chilled, 
Sweet hopes ever flown; 
Like that tree when its green leaves 
And blossoms are gone. 
L. E. Landon. 
£8 
