CAPTIVE. Thy crimson bud I duly prize In outer robe of green; For this thou'rt dear in maiden's eyes, LILY. The little rose has cause for pride, CAPTIVE. I call myself both chaste and pure, In loneliness and woe. Though thou dost seem, in white array'd, Like many a pure and beauteous maid, PINK. And dearer I, the pink, must be, A crowd of leaves enriching bloom! And mine through life the sweet perfume, And all the thousand hues. CAPTIVE. The pink can no one justly slight, Yet 'tis not pomp, who o'er the rest VIOLET. I stand conceal'd, and bending low, And do not love to speak; My wonted silence break. CAPTIVE. The violet I esteem indeed, So modest and so kind; Its fragrance sweet yet more I need, To soothe mine anguish'd mind. To you the truth will I confess; Here, 'mid this rocky dreariness, My love I ne'er shall find. T The truest wife by yonder brook Will roam the mournful day, And hither cast the anxious look, Long as immured I stay. Whene'er she breaks a small blue flower, Yes, e'en though far, I feel its might, And therefore 'mid the dungeon's night And sinks my heart at my hard lot, I but exclaim, "Forget me not!" FRAGMENT. BY SIR WALTER SCOTT. AND Well the lonely infant knew I deem'd such nooks the sweetest shade THE VIOLET.* 3Y G. J. CLARKE. WHEN April's warmth unlocks the clod, The violet pierces through the sod, Some plants, in gardens only found, Thus may my love to all abound, And all my fragrance share. Some scentless flowers stand straight and high, With pride and haughtiness: But violets perfume land and sky, Let me, with all humility, Do more than I profess. *Written for a little girl to speak on May-day, in the character of the Violet. Sweet flower, be thou a type to me I SEND THE LILIES GIVEN TO ME. BY BYRON. I SEND the lilies given to me; Though, long before thy hand they touch, I know that they must wither'd be ; But yet reject them not as such : For I have cherish'd them as dear, Because they yet may meet thine eye, And guide thy soul to mine even here, When thou behold'st them drooping nigh, And know'st them gather'd by the Rhine, And offer'd from my heart to thine! The river nobly foams and flows, The charm of this enchanted ground, And all its thousand turns disclose |