52 FLORA’S DIAL. 
mpril fi. 
MYRRH. — Gladness. 
My days have been so wondrous free, 
The little birds, that fly 
With careless ease from tree to tree, 
Were bub as blest as I. 
Ask gliding waters, if a tear 
Of mine increased their stream ? 
Or ask the flying gales, if e’er 
I lent one sigh to them ? Parnell. 
&pril 7. 
HOP. — Pride and Passion. 
When thy beauty appears 
In its graces and airs, 
All bright as an angel new-dropt from the sky, — 
At distance I gaze, and am awed by my fears, — 
So strangely you dazzle my eye! 
But when, without art, 
Your kind thought you impart, 
When your love runs in blushes through every vein; 
When it darts from your eyes, and pants in your 
heart, 
Then I know you ’re a woman again I Parnell. 
