FLORAL CEREMONIES. 137 | 
But like the lotus, whose soft depths 
Receive the morning sun ; 
The true fond flower still looks to heaven, 
Though light and day are done. 
And she, amid her gladder friends. 
Seems pensive on the strand ; 
And keeps her fairy bark unlaunched 
Beside her trembling hand. 
Why should she send her fairy freight 
To question future pain ? 
She knows her utter misery— 
She loves, and loves in vain 
I pray his pardon—he who traced 
The graceful forms I see ; 
Oh, magic painter to thy skill 
The spirit yields its key. 
The treasures of these distant lands 
Are given to thy will; 
But thou hast yet a dearer charm 
The heart obeys thee still. 
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