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POETRY OF FLOWERS. 277 
Sweet violet! one fate is thine, 
Alike, yet different to mine! 
I, too, must live a little day, 
Then fade, like thee, sweet flower, away ; 
But thou once more shall rise and bloom 
When I am in the silent tomb. 
Oh, truant fancy! say not so, 
May man no brighter presage know ? 
May man no brighter emblem see 
Of life and immortality, 
In this fair flow’ret’s swift decline ? 
Then, foolish fancy ! why repine ? 
Sweet haunter of the hidden dell! 
This lesson thou hast taught me well; 
The Christian’s hope can never die, 
The Christian’s hope is fixcd on high, 
Where, far from sorrow, care, and pain— 
His soul shall rise and bloom again ! 

SONG OF THE CAPTIVE. 
FROM THE GERMAN. OF GOETIUE. 
CAPTIVE. 
A FLowER that’s wondrous fair, I know; 
My bosom holds it dear ; 
To seek that flower I long to go, 
But am imprisoned here, 
De iI 
i 
if 
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ee 
——— > ™ 

