mingle, 
ining 
shininy, 
W. 

POETRY OF FLOWERS. 293 
THE PARTING OF SUMMER. 
THov’RT bearing hence thy roses, 
Glad summer, fare thee well ! 
Thou’rt singing thy last melodies 
In every wood and dell. 
But ere the golden sunset 
Of thy latest lingering day, 
Oh! tell me, o’er the chequered earth, 
How hast thou passed away ? 
Brightly, sweet summer! brightly 
Thine hours have floated by, 
To the joyous birds of the woodland boughs, 
The rangers of the sky 3 
And brightly in the forests, 
To the wild deer wandering free; 
And brightly ’mid the garden flowers 
To the happy murmuring bee ; 
But how to human bosoms, 
With all their hopes and fears, 
And thoughts that make them eagle-wings, 
To pierce the unborn years ? 



