204 
THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
A COMPARISON. 
BY -T. H. WIFFEN. 
—As yon flower, with hyacinthine bells, 
Playful as light, which shiver’d by my tread 
Is turn’d to dust and darkness— to all else 
It is as though it was not ; swiftly sped 
Spoil o’er its bruised buds which blossomed 
A blending of all sweetness—what now? 
A few years hence and over this bent head, 
Dashing all life and gladness from the brow, 
1 he scythe of Time shall pass, and Ruin’s silen 
Dlough. 
... . But the Spring, 
it air as Aurora in her purple cloud, 
Descends and wakens in their slumbering. 
Life from the ashes, beauty from the shroud. 
And speaks of immortality aloud 
To mourning man ; and thus the flower I trod 
To its maternal dust shall issue proud 
Of us new birth, and or, a greener sod 
Bow torte dal ymg winds-a sign to man fh>* 
