









THE BOUQUET. 
ASPEN TREE. 
PoPULUS TREMULUS. 
Excessive Sensibility. 


Wuy tremble so, broad aspen tree? 
Why shake thy leaves, ne’er ceasing? 
At rest thou never seem’st to be; 
For when the air is still and clear, 
Or when the nipping gale, increasing, 
Shakes from thy boughs soft twilight’s tear, 
Thou tremblest still, broad aspen tree, 
And never tranquil seem’st to be. 
ANONYMOUS. 





THE soul of music slumbers in the shell, 
Till waked and kindled by the master’s spell; 
And feeling hearts — touch them but lightly— pour 
A thousand melodies unheard before. 
RoGERs. 

