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On the rich depths of thy inwoven maze ; 
From the green banks of Eden’s blessed streams 
I dream’d thee brought, of brighter days to tell, 
Long pass’d, but promised yet with us to dwell, 
———— a 
BRING FLOWERS. 
MRS. HEMANS, 
Brine flowers, young flowers, for the festal board, 
T’o wreathe the cup ere the wine is pour’d; 
Bring flowers! they are springing in wood and 
vale, 
Their breath floats out on the southern gale, 
And the touch of the sunbeam hath waked the 
rose, 
To deck the hall where the bright wine flows. 
Bring flowers to strew in the conqueror’s path— 
He hath shaken thrones with his stormy wrath! 
He comes with the spoils of nations back, 
The vines he crush’d in his chariot’s track, 
The turf looks red where he won the day— 
Bring flowers to die in the conqueror’s way ! 
Bring flowers to the captive’s lonely cell, 
They have tales of the joyous woods to tell ; 
Of the free blue streams, and the glowing sky, 
And the bright world shut from his languid eye; 


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