TO AN EARLY BOUQUET.*

(IMPROMPTU.)

Fair, milky flower,† to classic ear unknown
As snowdrop, welcome!-welcome, early one,
To deck, with bridal white, young Flora's throne.-
Nor Crocus, less to thee are greetings due,
Bright, hymeneal bloom, of golden hue ;
Rich as thro' forest gloom-the branch, that on
Eneas, and his Sibyl escort shone. §

Flower of the wind,|| and have I nought to say
Of thy faint purple blush—Anemone ?
Child of boon earth, and softly whispering gale,
Ah yes!-Hepatica,¶ fair blossom, hail!
Come vernal Three, your early lustres blend,
To tell the drooping world-of winter's end;
And (while her birth, glad birds and poets sing,)
Gem the green cradle of the new-born Spring.

The bouquet was presented, on the 27th of February, 1835, to the author, by the second of the Charlottes, mentioned in "the Hermitage Breakfast." It consisted of but three flowers; Galanthus nivalis, (Snowdrop,) Crocus Sativa, and Anemone Hepatica; one of each.

+ Galanthus, of Greek etymology, may be translated Milky Flower.

+ CROCEO velatus amictu, HYMENÆUS.-Ovid, Metam. Book x. Line i.

§ Virgil, Æneid, Book vi. line 204. et seq.

|| Anemone. Aveμos (Anemos) the Wind. Anemone Hepatica.

K

TO THE SNOWDROP.*

Sweet flower, I love thy snowy bells,
For many a tale their blossom tells,
Of Youth, and Innocence, and Spring,
And all the gay delights they bring :
Of gentle, vernal breeze to come;
Of flowerets that will shortly bloom;
Of singing birds and verdant fields;
And all that wakening Nature yields.

Sweet flower of Hope! what tho' less rare
Than frail Exotic, nursed with care,
Tho' no rich perfume, on the gale,
Like the dark violet, you exhale,
Nor blush, with tinge of rosy die,
You are as fair to Fancy's eye:
And sweet, ay,-sweetest gem, of all,
That bud and bloom at Nature's call:
For you are her's-her own dear flower;
To whom she gives, with magic power,
What tint each blossom hath of bright;
What wafted odours most delight:
Since you a promise with you bring
Of all the scents and hues of Spring:
A messenger, despatch'd before,

To tell what Summer hath in store,

* By the author of lines on a Laburnum, &c.

Of roses, and of sunny days,
And bowers to screen from solar rays;
When we the hawthorn's breath inhale;
And drink the sweetness of the gale:
To velvet bank when children stoop,
And pluck the new-blown primrose group;
the violet from its bed;

Or

crop

Or honey-suckles sugar'd head :
These are the promises you bring;
Then welcome eldest-born of spring!

TO THE LORD

MON DERNIER MÔT.

Spiritus intus alit.

VIRGIL.

With goblins by the covey, very queer

Were, my brave reader, if I wanted spirit.

While you, the tolls and customs o'er,
And spirit duties gravely pore,

Here too, the knell of customs old
My tiny doggerel Muse hath toll'd;
And of permitted spirits* eke

Her province hath it been to speak;

* See the concluding stanza of" The Ashpark Apparition." The permission, there given, to a Rêvenant, for a time to reappear, seems to be of the

Nay, even to parallel your imposts,

With Raheenduff and glen-field Imp-hosts.

Different, I grant, the duties at Westminster,

From those of our small, haunted patch of Leinster :
Saint Stephen's duties are on spirits LAID;

While to RAISE spirits seems St. Finian's trade.

But, by the way, in my opinion,

Your Lordship has forgotten poor Saint Finian.
Yet of his bright and holy well,

And of himself, have you heard tell :

How he, of Tubber-Fin the Patron Saint,
Of Newtown legends is Recorder quaint:
While, sooth, so lunatic his tales,* 'twere pity,
Each crazy fable had not its committee;

Even as at Commons' House, each knotty question
Hath, at some statesman-member's sage suggestion.
Peace! I say, peace! too flippant Muse;
Seeing how 'tis, your lay refuse:

'Twas ask'd for; and I thought might prove amusive:
But do not you and it now seem intrusive?
Against thee too, pure Finian's lively spring,
Charge of exuberant prattle must I bring.
Be dumb, my Aganippé: Noble *****
Is so then silence !-babble thou no more;

Revenue Permit class. The first twelve lines of this bit of a poem, as Pat might call it, all allude to certain official duties, in the performance of which Lord was engaged about this time.

*For instance, the wild story of the coach and six. See page 21 of this volume.

Nor, with soft, tinkling chime,
Accompany my rhyme.

To an unslightably* proud silence cling:
Trust me, your lofty silence is the thing;
Unbroken, even by gentlest murmuring.†
Ainsi, a long adieu, fair well!

Lord ** *** too, farewell!

Why? great P. M.—J. C.—R. L. S. may
And (I could give you more initials) say.
Well! be it so :

With the detracting rest, let this too go.
Unstrung by filching + liar,

Be mute, my innocent lyre ;
My harmless Phantoms fly;

Else will you surely die ;§

And Slander, sliding from her viper nest,
Like Aaron's goblin-snake, devour the rest.||
Why spare my delicate spirits?¶ glutton she,
Who hath, for years, been gorging upon me?

* A-by me-coined word. Whether a sterling one, may be a question. + The author is addressing the well, or spring.

Viz. "he that filches your good name."-Othello-Act 3, sc. 3.

To threaten a phantom with death, may seem an extraordinary menace. There appears however to be authority for it. In one of Lucian's Dialogues, Charon, calling on his shadowy passengers to trim the boat, assures them that if they do not, it will be upset, and those, at least, who cannot swim, have a bad chance of escape.

|| Like Aaron's serpent, swallows up the rest.-POPE.

"My delicate Ariel."-Tempest.