148 
rOETEY OF FLOWERS. 
But purer far the lover’s vow 
They witnessed in their shade yestreen. 
All in its rude and prickly bower, 
The crimson rose, how sweet and fair ! 
But love is a far sweeter flower. 
Amid life’s thorny path o’ care. • 
The pathless wild, and whimpling burn, 
Wi’ Chloris in my arms be mine ; 
And I, the world nor wish, nor scorn. 
Its joys and griefs alike resign. 
THE WALL-FLOWER, 
The wall-flower—the wall-flower. 
How beautiful it blooms ! 
It gleams above the ruined tower. 
Like sunlight over tombs; 
It sheds a halo of repose 
Around the wrecks of Time; 
To beauty give the flaunting rose. 
The wall-flower is sublime. 
Flower of the solitary place! 
Grey Kuin’s golden crown ! 
That lendest melancholy grace 
To haunts of old renown : 
