10 
THE BOUQUET. 
Is to the Violet’s blossoming. 
Was her protecting power. 
Alas! the Fay, 
One tranquil night, was lured away 
From that sweet home. A merry hand 
Of sister Fairies, hand in hand, 
Came dancing to her rosy bower 
And tempted her, in evil hour. 
To hie afar to a silvery stream 
To revel and sport ’neath the moon’s bright beam. 
’Twas such an eve as Fairies love— 
All cloudless smiled the heaven above, 
And gentle zephyrs wandered by 
With the witching tone of a lover’s sigh, 
Or paused awhile, in their wayward flight, 
To kiss some flower of brightest bloom 
Which received the caress in mute delight 
Then paid it back in a breath of perfume. 
The minstrel night-bird’s plaintive song 
So SAveetly broke o’er dewy plains 
That echo kept the music long 
Then sent it forth in softer strains; 
So calm the sleeping waters lay, 
So true they mirror’d back the glow 
Of sky and moon and starry ray, 
There seem’d another heaven below, 
As pure, as fair, as full of love 
As the blue boundless heaven above. 
And Nature was as perfect, then, 
In that hush’d, holy evening hour, 
And stainless, as she e’er had been 
When first the Great Creative Power 
