wtr 
Floral Poetry. 
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Thus it bursts forth like thy pale cup, 
Glist’ning amid its dewy tears, 
And bears the sinking spirit up, 
Amid its chilling fears. 
But still more animating far, 
If meek religion’s eye may trace, 
Even in thy glimm’ring earth-born star, 
The holier hope of grace ! 
The hope that, as thy beauteous bloom 
Expands to glad the close of day, 
So through the shadows of the tomb 
May break forth mercy’s ray. 
Bernard Barton. 
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