





























144 PORTRY OF FLOWERS. 
And such, I exclaim’d, is the pitiless part 
Some act by the delicate mind, 
Regardless of wringing and breaking a heart 
Already to sorrow resign’d ! 
This elegant rose, had I shaken it less, 
Might have bloomed with its owner awhile: 
And the tear that is wiped with a little address 
May be followed perhaps by a smile. 
THE WINTER NOSEGAY. 
Wuart Nature, alas ! has denied 
To the delicate growth of our isle, 
Art has in a measure supplied, 
And Winter is deck’d with a smile. 
See, Mary, what beauties I bring 
From the shelter of that sunny shed, 
Where theflowers havethe charms of the spring, 
Though abroad they are frozen and dead. 
Tis a bower of Arcadian sweets, 
Where Flora is stillin ber prime, 
A fortress to which she retreats 
From the cruel assaults of the clime. 
While earth wears a mantle of snow, 
These pinks are as fresh and as gay 
As the fairest and sweetest that blow 
Cn the beautifvl bosom of Mar. 

