



110 THE FOETRY OF FLOWERS 
Yet is not life, in its real flignt, 
Mark’d dso even thus—on earth, 
By the closing of one hope’s delight, 
And another’ s gentle birth ? 
Ol! let us live so that flower by flower, 
Shutting in turn, may leave 
A lingerer still for the sunset hour, 
A cnarm for the shaded eve. 
——_¢——_ 
SPRING FLOWERS, 
BY SHAKSPEARE. 
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That eome before the sw , end take 
The winds of March with beauty; violets dim 
But sweeter than the lids of Juno’s eyes, 
Or Cytherea’s breath; pale primroses, 
That die unmarried, ere the y can behold 
Bright Phoebus in his atre eth; 
oxlips, and 
Ihe crown imperial ; lilies ¢ of all kinds, 
The flower-de-luce heing one, 
ail 
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