
THE BOUQUET. 7 

ALMOND. 
AMYGDALUS PUMILA. 
Hope. 
THE hope, in dreams, of a happier hour, 
That alights on misery’s brow, 
Springs out of the silvery Almond-flower 
That blooms on a leafless bough. 
Moore. 
AND hopes, and fears that kindle hope, 
An undistinguishable throng. 
COLERIDGE. 
*T ts like the spell of Hope’s airy lay, 
To whose sound through life we stray. 
Moore. 
Hope wears a golden chain. 
C. CLARKE. 
Sucu is Hope! as changeful and as fair! 
Now dimly peering on the wistful sight ; 
Now hid beneath the dragon-winged Despair; 
But soon emerging in her radiant might, 
She o’er the sorrow-clouded breast of Care 
Sails like a meteor kindling in its flight. 
COLERIDGE. 


