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87

XIII. FLOWERS.

Weep, deserted flowers of night—
We must waken day's delight!
We must weave in nature's loom
Summer radiance, vernal bloom.
Morning opes her purple eyes—
Orient colours, countless dies
Dissipate the spell of sleep:
Weep, deserted poppies, weep!
Fays no more in filmy trance
Round your slumbering leaflets dance.
Rising from night's spectred scene,
Now we gambol o'er the green;
Flit where noon-tide fervors shine,
Fan the blossoms e'er they pine,
Cooling airs on welcome wing
To the fainting lilly bring;

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Animate the fading rose,
Laugh in every bud that blows.
Glorious revel!—soon it ends!
See, the misty gloom descends.
Stay thee—bright-hair'd imp of light!
Check thy steeds' ungovern'd flight!
Eve's triumphant shadow lours:
Round her visage, dim with showers,
Shrivelling moon-beams faintly play:
We must leave ye, buds of day!
Flowers of silence, mourn no more—
Fays your filmy trance restore.
Softest dews of slumber fell,
While we breathed that opiate spell:
Silent poppies! cease your fears—
Visionary bliss appears.