






104 POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
Yet thou dost brightly bloom, 
When all around 
Breathes of sepulchral gloom, 
And grief profound ;— 
Like to some sunny gleam 
In life’s dark sky, 
Or a remembered dream 
Of bliss gone by |! 
TO A CROCUS, 
BLOSSOMING BENEATH A WALL-FLOWER. 
Wetcomg, wild harbinger of spring ! 
To this small nook of earth; 
Feeling and fancy fondly cling 
Round thoughts which owe their birth 
To thee, and to the humble spot 
Where chance has fixed thy lowly lot. 
To thee,—for thy rich golden bloom, 
Like heaven’s fair bow on high, 
Portends, amid surrounding gloom, 
That brighter hours draw nigh, 
When blossoms of more varied dyes, 
Shall ope their tints to warmer skies. 
