POETRY OF FLOWERS, 301 
THE ALMOND TREE. 
FLEETING and falling, 
i, Where is the bloom 
in Of yon fair almond tree ? 
It is sunk in the tomb: 
Its tomb wheresoever 
t The wind may have borne 
The leaves and the blossoms 
Its roughness has torn. 
- a a Rr ns cy Teen aiiaate 
Some there are floating 
On yon fountain’s breast ; 
Some line the moss 
Of the nightingale’s nesé. 
rhts 

Some are just strewn 
O’er the green grass below ; 
And there they lie stainless 
As winter’s first snow. 
| Yesterday, on the boughs 
| They hung scented and fair g 
To-day, they are scattered 
The breeze best knows where. 

