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Sweet purity! no grosser breath

Of fervid winds and scorching skies,
Taught thee to spring from mother earth,
And, midst impurities arise;

But thou hast sprung a lovely thing,
Nor proved the genial breath of Spring.

Sweet messenger of triumph due,

O'er death in all his wintry pride,
He cannot quench one living hue,
Which Heaven has destined to abide,
Undimm'd 'midst Nature's dire decay,
To blossom in eternal day.

I'll fix thee here beside my heart,

To calm its pulse, and check its play,
To heal its wounds, and soothe its smart,
And chase the rankling thought away;
For surely nought of earthly care,
May mar its peace when thou art there.

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GILLESPIE.

Он, sooner shall the Rose of May
Mistake her own sweet nightingale,
And to some newer minstrel's lay,

Open her bosom's glowing veil*,
Than love shall ever doubt a tone,
A breath of the beloved one.

MOORE.

A frequent image among Oriental poets.

THE MOSS-ROSE.

THE Angel of the Flowers, one day,
Beneath a rose-tree sleeping lay;
That spirit to whom charge is given,
To bathe young buds in dews of heaven;
Awaking from his light repose,
The Angel whispered to the Rose :-
"O, fondest object of my care,

Still fairest found, where all is fair;
For the sweet shade thou giv'st to me,
Ask what thou wilt, 'tis granted thee!"
"Then," said the Rose, with deepened glow,
"On me another grace bestow."

The spirit paused in silent thought;-
What grace was there the flower had not?-
'Twas but a moment-o'er the Rose
A veil of moss, the Angel throws;
And robed in nature's simplest weed,
Could there a flower that Rose exceed?

FROM THE GERMAN.

THE MOSS-ROSE.

In the garden of Venus a Moss-rose grew,
As sweet as a morning in May;

But the sunbeams had drank all her exquisite dew,
And left her, alas! to decay.

A Zephyr, who long in his covert had lain,
As the twilight advancing stole out,

He danced with the Gossamers over the plain,
And fanned them in ether about.

He saw the Rose drooping, as nearer he flew,
And skipped round her withering stem;
The soft air of evening over her blew,
And decked her with many a gem.

As lovely again did appear the Moss-rose,

As when in her earlier bloom;

And to Zephyr she gave, as she sank to repose,

All the sweets of her luscious perfume.

T. B.

THE ROSE.

AN IDYLL

SAID Ino, "I prefer the Rose
To every radiant flower that blows;
For when the smiling seasons fly,
And winds and rain deform the sky,
And roses lose their vivid bloom,
Their leaves retain a sweet perfume.
Emblem of virtue! virtue stays
When beauty's transient hue decays;
Nor age, nor fortune's frown efface,
Or injure her inherent grace."

"True," answered Daphnis ; " but observe,
Unless some careful hand preserve
The leaves, before their tints decay,
They fall neglected; blown away
By wintry winds or beating rains,
No breath of fragrancy remains.
Some kindly hand must interpose;
For sore the wintry tempest blows,
And weak and delicate's the Rose."

RICHARDSON.

* The Idyll, or Idyllion, seems to signify, according to the practice of the ancients, a representation in verse, most commonly of some pastoral or rural incident.

TO MY BELOVED DAUGHTER.

THE Rose that hails the morning,
Arrayed in all its sweets,
Its mossy couch adorning,

The sun enamoured meets;
Yet when the warm beam rushes,
Where, hid in gloom, it lies,
O'erwhelmed with glowing blushes,
The hapless victim dies.

Sweet maid, this Rose discovers
How frail is beauty's doom,
When flattery round it hovers,
To spoil its proudest bloom:
Then shun each gaudy pleasure,
That lures thee on to fade,
And guard thy beauty's treasure
To decorate a shade.

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MARY ROBINSON.

ON THE ROSE.

YE violets, that first appear,

By your pure purple mantles known,
Like the proud virgins of the year,

As if the spring were all your own—
What are ye when the Rose is blown?

SIR H. WOTTON.

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