FLORAL POESY. 
The spirit paused in silent thought,— 
What grace was there that flower had not ? 
*T was but a moment—o’er the Rose 
A veil of moss the Angel throws, 
And, robed in nature’s simplest weed, 
Could there a flower that rose exceed ? 
THE ROSE. 
TRANSLATED FROM CAMOENS. 
Just like love is yonder Rose :— 
Heavenly fragrance round it throws, 
Yet tears its dewy leaves disclose, 
And in the midst of briers it blows ; 
Just like love, 
Culled to bloom upon the breast, 
Since rough thorns the stem invest, 
They must be gathered with the rest, 
And with it to the heart be prest ; 
Just like love, 
And when rude hands the twin buds sever, 
They die, and they shall blossom never ; 
Yet the thorns be sharp as ever ; 
Just like love. 


THE LEGACY OF THE ROSES. 

MISS L. H. LANDON. 
Ox! plant them above me, the soft and bright, 
The touched with the sunset’s crimson light, 

