






74 THE BOUQUET. 

LUPINE. 
LUPINUS HIRSUTUS. 
Dejection, Sorrow. 
Fatse look, false hope, and falsest love, 
All meteors sent to me, 
To show how they the heart could move, 
And how deceiving be! 
They left me darkened, crushed, alone; 
My spirit’s household gods o’erthrown. ° 
The world itself is changed, and all 
That was beloved before 
Is vanished, and beyond recall, 
For I can hope no more: 
The scar of fire, the dint of steel, 
Are easier than such wounds to heal. . 
L. E. Lanpon. 
Ir is the past that maketh my despair! 
The dark, the sad, the irrevocable past. 
Alas! why should our lot in life be made, 
Before we know that life? Experience comes, 
But comes too late. If I could now recall 
All that I now regret, how different 
Would be my choice! at best a choice of ill; 
But better than my miserable past. 
Loathed, yet despised, why must I think of it? 
L. E. Lanpon. 

