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LE LODE DEGLI POMI.
L'Alma, verde odorata e vaga pianta
ALMANNI DEL. COL.
LINES TO A YOUNG LADY,
WITH VERSES ON A VARIETY OF FLOWERS.
Some lines on many a garden flower,
And native wildling too, I send ; Trifles like these assume a power
To please, when offered by a friend.
Flowers are the brightest things which earth
On her broad bosom loves to cherish; Gay they appear as childhood's mirth,
Like fading dreams of hope they perish.
In every clime, in every age,
Mankind have felt their pleasing sway; And lays to them have decked the page
Of moralist, and minstrel gay.
By them the lover tells his tale,
They can his hopes, his fears express ; The maid, when words or looks would fail,
Can thus a kind return confess.
They wreathe the harp at banquets tried,
With them we crown the crested brave; They deck the maid_adorn the bride
Or form the chaplets for her grave.
If hopes and fervent wishes could
Controul futurity's dark veil,
Have virtues such as you'd reveal.
You should, like roses, charm the view;
Like mignonette, should glad the heart; Your friends should be like ivy, true,
And everlasting where thou art.
As the bright flower, which fables say
Turns on its stem, the sun to greet, Should you, where'er your path might stray,
Continued joy and sunshine meet.
But should misfortune dim your road,
May you be like that lovely flower, Which, pressed beneath an adverse load,
Breathes secret sweets of balmy power.
And as through sunshine you may go,
Or bow beneath affliction's night, May He who bids the lily grow,
Direct and guide your course aright.
SPRING AND SUMMER FLOWERS.
When every leaf is brightly green,
When every stem hath sweetest flowers, And brilliant hues bedeck the scene,
Throughout the joyous summer hours ;
When sweetest perfumes scent the air.
When the bright sky hath deepest blue, When fairest scenes seem doubly fair,
And all is cloudless to our view;
Say, with what feelings do we gaze
Upon the garden's gaudy flowers, The Rose's tint, the Tulip's blaze,
The sweet Carnation's spicy powers !
Their beauty greeteth every eye,
Their perfume floats on every breeze, Yielding rich incense to the sky,
Our love abideth not with these.
But when the Snowdrop's fragile head,
First timidly attracts our view, Ere winter's sternest hour hath fled,
Like friendship to affliction true;
And when the breath of early spring
Gives to the modest Primrose birth, And tempts the Violet to bring
Her beauty from the sheltering earth;
It is with exquisite delight
We hail these unassuming flowers, More dearly precious in our sight,
Than all that deck our summer bowers.
They are the prized, the cherished few,
Types of our best affections here ;
A Violet by a mossy stone,
Half hidden from the eye,
FLOWERS of the fairest,
And gems of the rarest,
But one is still wanting,
Oh! where is it haunting? The bud and the jewel must make up my crown.