20 
POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
ON A BOSE. 
now short, sweet flower, have all thy beauties been 
An hour they bloom’d, and now no more are seen : 
So human grandeur fades, so dies awa) , 
Beauty and wealth remain but for a day. 
But virtue lives for ever in the mind, 
In her alone true happiness we find: 
The perfume stays, altho’ the rose be dead; 
So virtue every grace, 
THE LILY OF THE VALE. 
See, bending to the gentle gale, 
The modest lily of the vale; 
Hid in its leaf of tender green, 
Mark its soft and simple mien. _ > 
Thus sometimes Merit blooms retir , 
By genius, taste, and fancy, fir d, 
And thus ’tis oft the wanderer’s lot, 
To rove to Merit’s peaceful cot, 
As I have found the lily sweet, 
That blossoms in this wild retreat. 
Mbs. Hemans. 
