34' GARDENS, WREATHS &e. 
Yon Evening Primroses, when day has fled, 
Open your pallid flowers, by dews and moonlight fed. 
And where my favourite Abbey* rears on high 
Its crumbling ruins, on their loftiest crest 
Ye Wall-flowers, shed your tints of golden dye, 
On which the morning sunbeams love to rest,— 
On which, when glory fills the glowing west, 
The parting splendours of the day’s decline, 
With fascination to the heart address’d, 
So tenderly and beautifully shine, 
As if reluctant still to leave that hoary shrine. 
Convolvulus, — expand thy cup-like flower, 
Graceful in form, and beautiful in hue; — 
Clematis, wreathe afresh thy Garden bower, 
Ye loftier Lilies , bathed in morning’s dew, 
Of purity and innocence renew 
Each lovely thought; — and ye, whose lowlier pricte 
In sweet seclusion seems to shrink from view,— 
You of The Valley named, no longer hide 
Y T our blossoms meet to twine the brow of purest Bride- 
And Thou, so rich in gentle names, appealing 
To hearts that own our Nature’s common lot; 
Thou styled by sportive Fancy’s bettei ‘feeling 
A Thought , ’—“ The Heart's Ease," or “ Forget me 
not," 
* Leiston Abbey, in Suffolk. 
