86 love’s token-flowers. 
Unknown beyond the spot that gave them 
birth : 
Oh ! ne’er on earth can aught so fair find rest — 
Not here shall Happiness reward thy quest. 
WHITE POPPY. —Papavkr Somnife- 
rum. ■ 
The Consolation of Forgetfulness. 
Oh, for one draught of Lethe now! 
Oh, that I might but stoop to lave 
The fever of my burning brow, 
In dark oblivion’s icy wave ! 
My heart is filled with doubts and fears, 
Haunted by memories of the dead, 
And sends too oft its tide of tears 
To eyes Chat now no tears must shed. 
Could I but drink of Lethe’s stream, 
How gladly would I now forget 
The form of many a happy dream, 
Whose faded spectre haunts me yet. V 
