TIIE EVENING PRIMROSE. 
83 
‘ Soon as meek evening veils the sky, 
And wildly fresh her breeze flits by. 
And on my breast the dew-drops lie, 
I feel to live, 
And what is mine of fragrancy 
I freely give. 
f Say, thou who thus dost question me, 
Wouldst thou from earth’s dull cares be free, 
O ! listen, and I’ll counsel thee 
Wisely to shun 
Tumult and glare and vanity. 
As I have done. 
“ Enter thy closet, shut the door,” 
And heavenward let thy spirit soar. 
Then softer dews than bathe the flower 
On thee shall rest, 
And beams which sun nor moon can pour 
Illume thy breast.’ 
G 2 
