OK, LANGUAGE OE ELOWEKS. 207 
Many a hope that found its tomb, 
Just when bursting into bloom ; 
Many a friend—ah ! why proceed ? 
See afresh my bosom bleed— 
Rather turn my thoughts on high, 
Hopes there are which cannot die; 
Yes, my Saviour, thou canst give 
Joys that will not thus deceive. 
Eden's roses never fade, 
Eden's prospects know no shade. 
Rev. II. Stowell. 
—K3> ° <=©*(— 
THE MOSS ROSE. 
The angel of the flowers one day 
Beneath a rose-tree sleeping lay, 
That spirit—to whose charge is given 
To bathe young buds in dews from heaven ; 
Awakening from his light repose, 
The angel whispered to the Rose,— 
O fondest object of my care, 
Still fairest found where all are fair 
For the sweet shade thou giv’st to me, 
Ask what thou wilt, ’t is granted thee.” 
Then said the Rose, with deepened glow,— 
“ On me another grace bestow.”— 
The Spirit paused in silent thought, 
What grace was there that flower had not ? 
