

TO A WITHERED ROSE. 
And my Greenhouse I will cherish, 
For its flowers will never die ; 
They will join the one great garden, 
And for ever bloom on high. 
May its weeds be stifled quickly 
By the Gardener's watchful care ; 
For above in that bright Eden 
Nought may bloom but flowerets fair, 
Go wv TWithered Rose. 
Mrs. Whitman. 
ALE flower—pale, fragile, faded flower ; 
What tender recollections swell, 
What thoughts of deep and thrilling power 
Are kindled by thy mystic spell! 
A charm is in thy faint perfume, 
To call up visions of the past, 
Which, through my mind’s o’ershadowing gloom, 
“ Rush. like the rare stars, dim and fast.” 
And loveliest shines that evening hour, 
More dear by time and sorrow made, 
When thou wert culled (love’s token flower !) 
And on my throbbing bosom laid. 





