OR, LANGUAGE OE ELOWEES. 239 
Thine is a short, swift reign I know— 
But here—thy spirit still prevading—. 
New violets’ tufts again shall blow, 
Then fade away—as thou art fading; 
And be renewed ; the hope how blest, 
(O may that hope desert me never !) 
Like thee to sleep on nature’s breast, 
And wake again, and bloom for ever! 
Bowking. 
THE EARLY VIOLETS. 
A tear-drop stood in the violet’s eye, 
As the keen March windswept fiercely by; 
It folded its leaves of an emerald green, 
To ward off the blast so cutting and keen, 
Which bowed it to the ground. 
One luckless flower was thus exposed, 
The rest of the buds were firmly closed ; 
But they felt that their lov’d companion sigh’d ; 
And at eve (be purple favourite died, 
And withered on its stem. 
