Floral Poetry. 
107 
Yes, when two hearts are twined, love’s might 
Is felt, whate’er the distance; 
So I, within this dungeon’s night, 
Cling ever to existence. 
And when my heart is nigh distraught, 
If I but say—F orget-me-not, 
Hope burns again within me ! 
Goethe. 
Translated by Theodore Martin. 
THE FURZE. 
’ fJi ID scattered foliage, pale and sere, 
AUA Thy kind flow’ret cheers the gloom ; 
And offers to the waning year 
The tribute of its golden bloom. 
Beneath November’s clouded sky, 
In chill December’s stormy hours, 
Thy blossom meets the traveller’s eye, 
Gay as the buds of summer bowers. 
Flower of the dark and wintry day! 
Emblem of friendship ! thee I hail! 
Blooming when others fade away, 
And brightest when their hues grow pale. 
Anon. 
