


POETRY OF FLOW&RS. 


1e bright Land genial air, 
ah aands that ministered in life 
Nothing but love to us—are thrust away— 
The earth flung in upon our just cold bosoms, 
And the warm sunshine trodden out for ever' 
et have I chosen for thy grave, my child, 
A 2 ul ne where I have lain in summer hours 
And though aa 7 little it would seem like death 
To sleepa ue ich loveliness. 'T} Re brook, 
Tripping with eae er down the rocky steps 
‘That lead up to uty bed, would still trip o 
Breaking the dread hush of the mourners eee 
ild 
a+ 
Y 
The birds are never silent that bu 
Trying to sing down the more vocal waters ; 
? 
The slope is beautiful with moss and flowers 
? 
And far ‘below, seen under arching leaves 
Glitters the warm sun on the village spire 
> fr ’ 
Pointing the living after rE And this 
Seems like a comfort; and, replacing now 
here, 
The flowers that have ma ae room for thee, I ge 
‘To whisper the same peace to her who hae — 
Robb’d of her child and lonely. ’Tis the work 
Of many a dark hour, and of many a prayer, 
To bring the heart back from an infant gone. 
Hope must give o’er, and busy fancy blo 
The images from all the silent rooms, 
