
TES POLTRY OF FLOWERD. 






















THE HELIOTROPE, 

THERE is a flower, whcse modest eye ee 
Is turn’d with looks of light and love, Bak 
Who breathes her softest, sweetest sigh, 
Whene’er the sun is bright above. Bani 
Let clouds obscure, or darkness veil, 
Her fond idolatry is fled ; 
Her sighs no more their sweets exhale, 
The loving eye is cold and dead. 
Canst thou not trace a moral here, 
False flatterer of the prosperous hour f hii 
Let but an adverse cloud appear, ie 
And thou art faithless as the flower. Hee | 

fe, pata hate 
Wel, ARMOUR OF THE ROSE. i i 
wer, Youne Love, rambling through the wood, ava 
Found me in my solitude, Ha ae 
Bright with dew and freshly blown, 
And trembling to the Zephyr’s sighs; ail 
But as he stoop’d to gaze upon 
The living gem with raptured eyes, 
; It chanced a bee was busy there, 
Searching for its fragrant fare ° 

