92 
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
I seem upon a pathless sea, 
A lonely ark that still remains, 
Doomed to glide on in misery, 
And float alone with all its pains. 
“ Oh ! I have loved, and still I love, 
And yet my life is like a dream : 
I look around—below—above, 
And thoughts like hovering shadows seem, 
Clouds drifting o’er the face of Heaven, 
That float along in loose array, 
The dark and bright together driven, 
And mingling but to pass away. 
“ And Love still lives, though Hope is fled, 
And Memory that brings no delight. 
Telling of Spring, whose flowers are shed, 
A weary day long changed to night, 
A music all in mournful tone, 
Sounding awake, and heard asleep, 
A solemn dirge that rings alone, 
To tell me I am doomed to weep. 
“ Though he is false I will not chide, 
I feel my heart is all to blame, 
And though I may not be his bride, 
Lut see another bear that name, 
