120 flora’s dial. 
September 5. 
HUMBLE PLANT. — Despondency . 
Alone walking, 
In thought plaining 
And sore sighing, 
Me remembering 
Of my living, 
And death wishing 
Unfortunate 
Is so my fate, 
That wot she what 
My life I hate : 
Thus desperate 
In such poor estate, 
Chaucer. 1370 . 
September fi. 
IBIS. — Pleasant Message. 
May Time, who sheds his blight o’er all, 
And daily dooms some joy to death, — 
O’er thee, let years so gently fall, 
They shall not crush one flower beneath! 
Moore. 
, j All desolate, — 
| Early and late; — 
| Out of measure, 
| Do I endure! 
