

| THE BOUQUET. 23 
Yet still the spirit, which you see 
Undaunted by your wiles, 
Draws, from its own nobility, 
Its high-born smiles. 
ANONYMOUS. 
CEDAR. 
JUNIPERUS. 
I think of thee. 
I rnHovenrt of thee, I thought of thee, 
On ocean, many a weary night, 
When heaved the long and sullen sea, 
With only waves and stars in sight. 
We stole along by isles of balm, 
We furled before the coming gale, 
We slept amid the breathless calm, 
We flew beneath the straining sail — 
But thou wert lost for years to me, 
And, day and night, I thought of thee! 

I’ve thought of thee —I ’ve thought of thee, 
Through change that teaches to forget ; 
Thy face looks up from every sea, 
In every star thine eyes are set. 
Though roving beneath Orient skies 
Whose golden beauty breathes of rest, 







