FABLES OF FLORA. 
57 
‘ Once more, O Jessamine, I pray, 
Tell what my lady does to-day j 
>T is noon — perhaps she faints with heat— 
O fan her with thine odors sweet! ’ 
‘ Thy lady sits within my shade, 
My flowers upon her cheek are laid; 
Her lily fingers, light and free, 
For others toil —her heart for thee.’ 
‘ T is twilight — does she watch the stars? 
Looks she on Venus now, or Mars; 
O, favored flower, once more reveal 
The scene thy woven leaves conceal! ’ 
‘ Thy lady in the moonlight stands — 
A faded rose is in her hands — 
Tears in her hazle eyes I see — 
Shenveeps — ay, doubter, weeps for thee! ’ 
< Silent and solemn midnight re'igns; 
The moon o’er yonder turret wanes; 
O, sleepy vine, awake and tell 
If she thou guardest slumbers well! ’ 
‘ I see her with her white robe prest 
Across her soft and guileless breast; 
And list! — she dreams — I hear her speak 
A name, that crimsons brow and cheek. 
