

102 FLORAL POESY. 
All the soul forth flowing 
In that rich perfume, 
All the proud life glowing 
In that radiant bloom, 
Have they no place but here, beneath th’ o’er- 
shadowing tomb ? 
Crown’st thou but the daughters 
Of our tearful race P— 
Heayen’s own purest waters 
Well might bear the trace 
Of thy consummate form, melting to.softer grace. 
Will that clime infold thee 
With immortal air ? 
Shall we not behold thee 
Bright and deathless there ? 
In spirit-luster clothed, transcendently more fair ? 
Yes! my fancy sees thee 
In that light disclose, 
And its dream thus frees thee 
From the mist of woes, 
Darkening thine earthly bowers, O bridal, royal rose ! 

THE ROSE. 
ELTON’S SPECIMENS. 
Dip Jove a queen of flowers decree, 
The rose the queen of flowers should be. 
Of flowers the eye; of plants the gem ; 
The meadow’s blush ; earth’s diadem ; 
Glory of colors, on the gaze 
Lightening in its beauty’s blaze ; 
