100 flora’s dial. 
3foh) 23. 
INDIAN PLUM. — Privation. 
In vain to me the smiling mornings shine, 
And reddening Phoebus lifts his golden fire; 
These ears, alas! for other notes repine, 
A different object do these eyes require; 
My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine ; 
And in my breast the imperfect joys expire ; 
I fruitless mourn for one that cannot hear, 
And weep the more, because I weep in vain. 
Gray. 
Mb 24. 
WHITE LILAC. — Youthful looks. 
Maiden, that read’st this simple rhyme, 
Enjoy thy youth, it will not stay ; 
Enjoy the fragrance of thy prime, 
Por oh! it is not always May. 
Enjoy the spring of love and youth, 
To some good angel leave the rest; 
For Time will teach thee soon the truth, — 
There are no birds in last year’s nest. 
Longfellow. 
