LOTUS. 
( Eloquence — R efiose.) 
'' The lotus-flower, whose leaves I now 
Kiss silently, 
Far more than words can tell thee, how 
I worship thee.”--M oore. 
THE LOTUS. 
TENNYSON. 
OW sweet it were, hearing the downward stream 
With half-shut eyes ever to seem 
Falling asleep in a half dream ! 
To dream and dream, like yonder amber light, 
Which will not leave the myrrh bush on the height; 
To hear each other’s whispered speech ; 
Eating the Lotus, day by day, 
To watch the crisping ripples on the beach, 
And tender curving lines of creamy spray; 
To lend our hearts and spirits wholly 
To the influence of mild-minded melancholy; 
To muse and brood and live again in memory, 
With those old faces of our infancy 
Heaped over with a mound of grass, 
Two handfuls of white dust, shut in an urn of brass. 
