POETRY OP FLOWERS. 
21 
TO A BEAUTIFUL VINE AND A 
EOSE-BUSH. 
Thou fair expanding mossy rose, 
Long may thy opening foliage twine 
With this luxuriant cluster’d vine, 
Which round thee wreathes its tender boughs. 
Fair vine, long may thy leaves extend, 
While gentle showers refresh thy root; 
Long may thy graceful branches bend, 
Enrich’d with purpling luscious fruit. 
Sweet rose, long may thy flow’rs receive 
The lucid tears of morn and eve ; 
Long mayst thou in profusion spread, 
Thy straying buds of brightest rod. 
Mrs. Hemans. 
FLOEA TO CLAUDE, 
ON HIS PLUCKING A ROSE. 
Ah ! you thoughtless, cruel hoy, 
’Tis all your pleasure to destroy; 
Fairer was my blushing rose, 
Than any fragrant flower that blows; 
Already, lo! it droops and dies, 
And all its lovely crimson flies. 
