
82 
FLORAL POESY. 
With treacherous aim the god his arrow drew, 
Which she with icy coldness did repel ; | 
Rebounding thence with feather speed it flew, | 
Till on this lonely flower at last it fell. 
Heart’s-ease no more the wandering shepherd found ; 
No more the nymphs its snowy form possess 5 
Its white now changed to purple by Love’s wound, ! 
Heart’s-ease no more,—'tis Love-in-idleness. 
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HEART’S-EASE, 6 
ANON. | li 
T 
I usEeD to love thee, simple flower, ) 
To love thee dearly when a boy ; 
For thou didst seem in childhood’s hour, 
The smiling type of childhood’s joy. B 
But now thou only work’st my grief, 
By waking thoughts of pleasures fled. 
Give me, give me the withered leaf, 
That falls on Autumn’s bosom dead. , 
n 
For that ne’er tells of what has been, | 
But warns me what I soon shall be; 
It looks not back on pleasure’s scene, | 
But points unto futurity. 
I love thee not, thou simple flower, | 
For thou art gay, and I am lone; 
Thy beauty died with childhood’s hour— | 
The heart’s-ease from my path is gone. 
