HE POETRY OF FLOW 
LU 
Haste! to my pillow bear 
Those fragrant thin, 
no more inay bind them up at eve=~ 
Y et ee their odour soft 
sht dream round me waft 
h, summer—all that I must leave? 
And, oh! if thou wouldst ask 
WwW herefo re thy ee I task, 
The grove, the stream, the hamlet vale to trace, 
Tis that some thought of me, 
When [ am gone, may be 
The spirit bound to each familiar place. 
1 bid mine image dwell 
(Oh! break not thou the spell !) 
In the deep wood and by the fountain side; 
Thou must not, my beloved! 
Rove where we two have roved, 
Forgetting her that in her spring-time died ' 

