SNOW-DROP. 
57 
But quickly pass away: 
Thus Northern lights the gloom adorn, 
And give the promise of a morn 
That never turns to day! 
— But hark! methinks I hear 
A small still whisper in mine ear; 
“ Rash youth, repent! 
“ Afflictions, from above, 
“ Are Angels sent 
“ On embassies of love. 
“ A fiery legion, at thy birth, 
“ Of chastening woes were given, 
“ To pluck thy flowers of Hope from earth, 
“ And plant them high 
“ O’er yonder sky, 
“Transform’d to stars, — and fix’d in heaven.” 
The same. — iiowitt. 
The Snow-drop! ’tis an English flower, 
And grows beneath our garden trees : 
For every heart it has a dower 
Of old and dear remembrances ; 
All look upon it, and straightway 
Recall their youth, like yesterday 1 — 
Their sunny years, when forth they went 
Wandering in weariless content; 
Their little plot of garden ground, 
The pleasant orchard’s quiet bound; 
