THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 115 
THE BROKEN FLOWER, 
BY MRS. HEMANS. 
On ! wear it on thy heart, my love! 
Still, still a little while ! 
Sweetness is lingering in its leaves, 
Though faded be their smile. 
Yet, for the sake of what hath been, 
Oh ! cast it not away ! 
• Twas born to grace a summer scene, 
A long, bright, golden $ay, 
My love, 
A long, bright, golden day! 
A little while around thee, love ! 
Its fragrance yet shall cling, 
Telling that on thy heart hath lain, 
A fair, though faded thing. 
But not even that warm heart hath powef 
To win it back from fate:— 
Oh ! I am like thy broken flower, 
Cherish’d too late, too late, 
My love 
Cherish’d, alas! too ’rvte 
