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THE ROSES. 
BY BOWRING. 
I sAw them once blowing, 
While morning was glowing ; 
But now are their withered leaves strewed o'er the 
ground, | 
For tempests to play on, ~~ 
For cold worms to prey on, 
The shame of the garden that triumphs around. 
Their buds which then flourished, 
With dew-drops were nourished, 
Which turned into pearls as they fell from on high ; 
‘Their hues are all banished, 
Their fragrance all vanished, 
Ere evening a shadow has cast from the sky. 
I saw, too, whole races 
Of glories and graces 
Thus open and blossom, but quickly decay ; 
And smiling and gladness, 
In sorrow and sadness, 
Ere life reached its twilight, fade dimly away. 
Joy’s light-hearted dances, 
And melody’s glances, 
Are rays of a moment—are dying when born ; 
And pleasure’s best dower 
Is nought but a flower, < 
A vanishing dew-drop—a gem of the morn. 
The bright eye is clouded, 
Its brilliancy shrouded, 
Our strength disappears, we are helpless and lone ; 
No reason avails us, 
And intellect fails us ; 
Life’s spirit is wasted, and darkness comes on. 
aoe 
