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By bird or beast made vocal, sought a cause 
To solve the mystery, not in Nature’s laws, 
But in Man’s fortunes. Hence a thousand tales 
Sung to the plaintive tyre in Grecian vales ; 
Nor doubt that something of their spirit sway’d 
The fancy-stricken youth, or heart-sick maid, 
Who, while each stood companionless and eyed 
This undeparting flower in crimson dyed, 
Thought of a wound which death is slow to 
cure, 
A fate that has endured and will endure ; 
And, patience coveting, yet passion feeding, 
Call’d the rejected lingerer “Love lies Bleeding.” 
WORDSWORTH. 
’ ela a ty 
mses ed, 

FLOWERS. 
ee OW stilly, yet how sweetly, 
}| The little while they bloom, 
| They teach us quiet trustfulness, 
Allure our hearts from selfishness, 
And smile away our gloom: 
So do they prove that heavenly love 
Doth every path illume ! 



