12 TO THE UVA URSI. 
But beauty how frail and how fleeting, 
The bloom of a fine summer’s day ! 
While worth in the mind o’ my Phillis 
Will flourish without a decay. 
—Burns. 
TO THE UVA URSI. 
How modest, sweet, and bright, 
Your clust’ring flowers appear; 
Above the leaves to hail the light, 
And meet the sunshine there ! 
But when the summer’s sun is sped, 
Where will your bloom be found ? 
Your blossoms gone, your leaves all dead, 
And scattered on the ground. 
Yet when next June’s bright sun is high, 
Your modest flowers will spring 
In all their beauty to the sky, 
And leaves around you bring. 
Just such is youth of virtuous breast: 
He’ll fade, but yet to bloom; 
And in his Saviour’s bosom rest, 
When risen from the tomb. 
—Mrs. IIkmans. 
