POETRY.
CLIFF ROSES.
Pam little sister of rich red roses, Wild little sister of garden queens, Art thou content that thy flower uncloses Here where the land to the ocean leans P They, where the lawns are soft and shaded, Hold their court amid eyes that gaze ; Thou by the lone sea liv'st, and faded Fall thy leaves in the salt sea sprays.
Smitten of every storm that blusters, Crushed by the mimic avalanche, Bravely still thy delicate clusters Laugh from thick et and thorny branch..
Naught may we know of all thou knowest, All that the soft wind brings to thee ? Under the cliff-top where thou growest Sail the ships to the open sea; Art not thou and thy flowers clinging Ghosts of many a sad farewell, Fluttering home from the ships, and bringing Tidings for loving hearts to tell?
Or art thou, rather, a blithe fore-corner, Blown by winds from the homeward ships, A kiss, turned flower in the breath of summer,.
A word that has quickened from eager lips?
Nay, though sweet as the longed-for hour, Fair as the face that we yearn to see, Nothing thou art but a simple flower, Growing where God has planted thee. F. NV% It..
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