112 FLORAL POESY. 

Deep in her unfrequented bower, 
Sweet Philomela poured her strain ; 
The bird of eve approved her flower, 
And answered thus the anxious swain :— 

‘< Live unseen |. 
By moonlight shades, in valleys green, 
Lovely flower, we’ll live unseen. 
Of our pleasures deem not lightly, 
Laughing day may look more sprightly ; 
But I love the modest mien, 
Still I love the modest mien 
Of gentle evening fair, and her star-trained queen, 


‘* Didst thou, shepherd, never find 
Pleasure is of pensive kind ? 
Has thy cottage never known | 
That she loves to dwell alone ? i | 
Dost thou not at evening hour | 
Feel some soft and secret power 
Gliding o’er thy yielding mind, 
Leave sweet serenity behind, 
While, all disarmed, the cares of day 
Steal through the falling gloom away ; 
Love to think thy lot was laid 
In this undistinguished shade ; 
Far from the world’s infectious view 
Thy little virtues safely blew ? 
Go, and in day’s more dangerous hour, 
Guard thy emblematic flower.” 

