166 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
FADED FLOWERS. 
BY MISS JEWSBURY. 
Fabed flowers, 
Sweet faded flowers, 
Beauty and death 
Have ruled your hours, 
Ye woke in bloom but a morn ago, 
And now are your blossoms in dust laid low. 
But yesterday 
With the breeze ye strove, 
In the play of life, 
In the pride of love; 
To and fro swung each radiant head, 
That now is drooping, and pale, and dead! 
Delicate flower, 
With the pearl-white bells, 
No more shall dew-drop 
Sleep in thy cells! 
No more, rich rose, on thy heaving breast, 
The honey-bee fold his wings to rest' 
Fair myrtle-tree, 
Thy blossoms lie low, 
But green above them 
Thy branches grow ; 
Like a buried love, or a vanish’d joy 
Link’d unto memories none destroy. 
