30 DROPS FROM FLORA’S CUP. 
TIIE LAST WISH. 
MRS. HEMANS. 
4 Well may I weep to leave tliis world —thee — 
all these beautiful woo^s, and plains, and hills. ’ 
Go to the forest shade — 
Seek thou the well known glade, 
Where, heavy with sweet dew, the violets lie; 
Gleaming through moss-tufts deep, 
Like dark eyes filled with sleep, 
And bathed in hues of summer’s midnight sky. 
Bring me their buds, to shed 
Around my dying bed 
A breath of May, and of the wood’s repose ; 
For I in sooth depart 
With a reluctant heart, 
That fain would linger where the bright sun glows. 
Well know’st thou that fair tree — 
A murmur of the bee 
Dwells ever in the honeyed lime above; 
Bring me one pearly flower 
Of all its clustering shower — 
For on that spot we first revealed our love. 
Gather one woodbine bough, 
Then, from the lattice low 
