THE LAVENDER. 
1 77 
When slower grew their ling’ring walk, 
And softer grew their murmur’d talk, 
For ev’ry look and word and thought 
With dreams of future bliss was fraught; 
And all those visions fancy weaves 
In young and loving hearts— 
Visions which youth alone believes, 
And love alone imparts. 
B. 
