DROPS FROM FLORA'S CUP. 107 
TO THE JASMINE. 
JANE TAYLOR. 
Sweet jasmine, long may thy elegant flower 
Breathe fragrance and solace for me: 
And long thy green sprigs overshadow the bower 
, Devoted to friendship and thee. 
The eye that was dazzled where lilies and roses 
Their brilliant assemblage displayed, 
With grateful delight on thy verdure reposes, 
A tranquil and delicate shade. 
But, O, what dejection that foliage expresses, 
Which pensively droops on her breast! 
The dew of the evening has laden her tresses, 
And stands like a tear on her crest. 
I’ll watch by thy side through the gloom of the 
night 
Impatient till morning appears: 
No charm can awaken this heart to delight. 
My jasmine, while thou art in tears. 
But soon will the shadows of night be withdrawn, 
Which ever in mercy are given; 
And thou shaltbe cheered by the light of the mom, 
And fanned by the breezes of heaven. 
