218 
I’OETKY OF FLOWEU3. 
TO THE MELANCHOLY GILLY¬ 
FLOWER. 
Oh why, thou lone and lovely flower, 
Deny the sweetness to the day ; 
And ever in night’s hushest hour. 
Still sigh thy fragrant life away 1 
The wild-bee murmurs round each spray. 
And kisses every flower but thine ; 
No scent allures the vagrant’s way. 
Or tempts him to thy golden mine. 
The glowing breath of gorgeous noon 
Is swelled by every other sweet; 
Why dost thou only the pale moon 
And chilly night-winds love to greet ? 
When young Endymion earliest dream’d 
On that wild hill’s enchanted ground. 
The faltering radiance fearful gleam’d. 
And cast a quivering light around. 
Still, in his dreams, did charmed sighs 
Float trembling o’er his favoured head. 
And strange mysterious music rise, 
And hover round his mountain bed. 
