THE EVENING GILLIFLOWER. 
Then meet me again in this casement niche, 
On the spot where we're standing now.— 
Nay, question not wherefore! Perhaps, with me, 
To look out on the night, and the broad, bright sea, 
And to hear its majestic flow ! 
* * * * * 
Well, we’re met here again ; and the moonlight sleeps 
On the sea, and the bastion’d wall, 
And the flowers there below.—How the night wind brings 
Their delicious breath on its dewy wings ! 
‘¢ But there’s one,” say you, ‘‘sweeter than all!” 
Far sweeter ! and where, think you, groweth the plant 
That exhaleth such perfume rare ? 
Look about, up and down—But take care, or you'll break, 
With your elbow, the poor little thing that’s so weak : 
‘Why, ’tis that smells so sweet, I declare |” 
Ah ha! is it that? Have you found out now 
Why I cherish that odd little fright ? 
All is not gold that glitters, you know; 
And it is not all worth makes the greatest show 
In the glare of the strongest light. 
There are human flowers full many, I trow, 
As unlovely as that by your side, 
That a common observer passeth by 
With a scornful lip and a careless eye, 
In the heyday of pleasure and pride. 














































