118 FLORA’S DIAL. 
September 1. 
FUMITORY. — III at ease. 
All things unto me 
Shew their dark sides! Somewhere there must he 
light. 
Oh ! I feel like a seed in the cold earth; 
Quickening at heart, and pining for the air! 
Passion is destiny. The heart is its own 
Fate. It is well youth’s gold rubs off soon. 
Festus. 
September 2. 
HELENIUM. — Tears. 
Nightly tears have dimed the lustre 
Of thy sweet eyes, once so bright. 
And, as when dark willows cluster, 
Weeping o’er marble rocks, 
O’er thy forehead white 
Droop thy waving locks. 
Yet thou art beautiful, poor girl, 
As angels in distress, 
Yea, comforting the soul, dear girl, 
With thy loveliness. Topper. 
