185 
POETKY OP FLOWERS. 
And 4^en lost in blissful trances, 
’Neath the hone 5 ’moon they rove, 
While soft looks and tender glances 
Tell of confidence and love, 
Flowers seem blessings scattered round them by 
angelic hands above. 
Flowers all beauty and all sweetness ! 
Out, alas ! that they must fade ; 
Earthly joys have no completeness ; 
There’s no sunshine without shade ; 
Like a blighted rose the loved one stricken is, 
and lowly laid! 
When the funeral bell is tolling. 
And the landscape looketh drear. 
And adown the deck is rolling 
Sorrow’s agonizing tear, 
Faded blossoms, hope’s frail emblems, deck the 
cofifin and the bier. 
And when time had gently chidden 
Grief to something like repose. 
By the voice of memory bidden. 
To the tomb the mourner goes. 
Pleased he sees it wreath’d and covered with the 
violet and rose. 
And amid bis weeping, lowly 
Bending to the verdant sod, 
