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THE BURIED FLOWER. I lb..ô.J…

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THE BURIED FLOWER. I lb..ô.J .J.L U'.1: "1\ FROM LAVS OF THF. SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. I By Professor Aytoun. 0, THE garden I remember, In th ⢠gay and sunny Spring, When our laughter made the thickets And the arching alleys ring o the merry burst of gladness! 0, the soft and tender tone 0, the whisper never utter'u Save to sue fond ear alone 0, the light of life that sparkled In those bright and bounteous eyes In the blush of happy beauty, Tell-tale of the heart's surprise '? r i se, 0, the radiant light that girdled Field and forest, land and sea, When '.ve all were young together, And the earth was new to me! Where are now the Sowers we tended r Wither'd, broken, branch and stem Where are no w the hopes we cherish'd ? Seatter'd to the winds with them. For ye, too, were flowers, ve (le:1.r ones, I Nursed in hope and reai'd in love. Looking fondly ever upward To the clear blue heaven D.b()," ¡ S'1,'1;, .1. t1 t 1, ,1 ( Smiling or. the sun that c'aeer' d m, Rising lightly from the rain, Never folding up your freshness j Save to give it forth again. O, my heart, that once so truly Kept another's time and tuu- Iiearc, that kindled in the Spring-tide, Look around thee in the moon. Where are they who gave the impulse To thy carl:?,,st thought amI flow ? Lo)k arnund the rniu'd garde:â All are wither'd, dropp'd, or low Seek the birth-place of the lily, I Dearer to the boyish dream Than the golden cups of Eden I Floating on its slumbrous stream j Never more shall thou behold her- She, the noblest, fairest, bestâ She tJiat rose in fullest beauty, Like a queen, above the rest. j Only still I keep her image As a thought that cannot the; He who raised the shade of Helen Had no greater power than 1. O, I fling my spirit backward, And I pass o'er years of pain All r 1uv is rising Tonnu m'c Ail the lost returns again. Blow, for ever blow, yc breezes, Warmly, as ye did b,, fc) i, c Bloom again, ye happy gardens. With the radiant tints of yoic i Warble out in spray and thicket, Ali ye choristers unseen j Let the leafy woodland echo With an anthem to its queen Lo she cometh in her beauty, Stalely with a Juno grace. Raven locks, Madonna-braided i O'er her sweet and blushing Eyes of deepest violet, beaming With the love that knows not shame Lips that thrill my inmost being With tiie utteraucc of a name.

---.CON CH7.CAN*, TI1F. IRISH…

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