
40 
POETRY OF YLOWERS, 
TO A FLOWER. 
Dawn, gentle flower, 
From the morning earth! 
We will gaze and wonder 
At thy wondrous birth } 
Bloom, gentle flower} 
Lover of the light, 
Sought by wind and shower, 
Fondled by the night ! 
Fade, gentle flower! 
All thy white leaves close; 
Having shown thy beauty, 
Time ’tis for repose. 
Die, gentle flower, 
In the silent sun! 
Soh—all pangs are over, 
All thy tasks are done. 
Day hath no more glory, 
Though he soars so high; 
Thine is all man’s story, 
Line—and love—and die, 


