"Farewell! dear flowers, sweetly your time ye spent, Fit, while ye liv'd, for smell or ornament; And after death, for cures. I follow straight, without complaint or grief; It be as short as yours." "To those gardens of the immortal kind, That crown the heavenly Eden's rising hills With beauty and with sweets; no lurking mischief Dwells in the fruit, nor serpents twine the bough; The branches bend, laden with life and bliss Ripe for the taste; but 'tis a steep ascent,Hold fast the golden chain let down from heaven, 'Twill help your feet and wings. Happy clue Through this dark wild! 'Twas Wisdom's noblest work, All joined by Power Divine, and every link is Love.” THE END. BATH PRINTED BY BINNS AND GOODWIN. |