174 
THE MORAL OF FLOWERS. 
That from sweet Hebe’s chaplet gay 
Another rose has pass’d away. 
The closing year — a louder note 
For manhood’s stormier hour’t is sounding; 
Athwart the thousand schemes which float, 
The hopes which in his heart are bounding, 
The cares which vex him and enthral, 
It throws a dark funereal pall. 
The closing year — to age, dim age, 
A low and solemn dirge’t is singing; 
It sternly bids him disengage 
Each hope, each thought, to earth that’s clinging, 
And opens to his waning eye 
The grave where he so soon must lie. 
The closing year — would that it found 
Youth, manhood, age but meet for glory ! 
Then little recks it whether crown’d 
With budding rose, or tresses hoary 
We sink to rest — years then will be 
Merged in a bright eternity ! 
