92 
CROCUS. 
’T was so: in vain I sought thee 
Within my garden-bower; 
And from the fields I brought thee,— 
Pale autumn’s faithful flower. 
Spring flowers, like fortune’s lightness, 
With calm skies pass away : 
But this reveals its brightness 
’Mid silence and decay ; 
Like thy pure steadfast spirit, strong in sorrow’s darkest 
day. 
* 
