

THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 149 
THE LEGACY OF THE ROSES. 
BY MISS L. E. LANDON. 
Sq! plant them above me, the soft and 
a i the bright, 
Px@SA)| The touch’d with the sunset’s crimson 
light, 
The warm with the earliest breath of Spring, 
The sweet with the sweep of the west wind’s 
wing ; 
Let the green bough and the red leaf wave,— 
Plant the glad rose-tree upon my grave. 

Why should the mournful willow weep, 
O’er the quiet rest of the dreamless sleep ? 
Weep for life with its toil and care, 
Its crime to shun, and its sorrow to bear 5 
Let tears, and the signs of tears be shed 
Over the living, not over the dead. 
Plant not the cypress, nor yet the yew, 
Too heavy their shadow, too gloomy their hue, 
For one who is sleeping in faith and love, 
With a hope that is treasured in heaven above ; 
In a holy trust are my ashes laid, 
Cast ye no darkness, throw ye no shade. 

