FLOWERS OF LOVE. 
37 
Shoreward he steer’d at dawn of day, 
And saw the coast all round embower’d, 
And brought a starry sprig away, 
For her by whose green cot it flowered. 
And oft when from that scorching shore, 
In after-days those odours carne,^ 
He pictured his green cottage door, 
The shady porch, and window-frame, 
Far, far away across the foam : 
The very Jasmine-flower that crept 
Found the thatch’d roof about his home, 
Where she he loved still safely slept. 
With raven-ringlets blown apart 
And trembling like a startled dove, 
A lovely girl press’d to her heart 
A Moss-rose, to appease its love. 
But all in vain, it still kept heating,— 
And so she said, “’Tis all in vain ! 
Oh, this love, ’tis past defeating,— 
What can I do but love again 1” 
