...and roses glow O'er all the fragrant bowers, Thou need'st not be ashamed to show Thy satin -threaded flowers ; For dull the eye, the heart is dull That...thou, wild bramble ! back dost bring, In all their beauteous power, The fresh green days of life's fair spring. And boyhood's blossomy hour. Scorn'd bramble...

...all beauty beautiful, Thy tender blossoms are ! How delicate thy gauzy frill ! How rich thy branehy stem ! How soft thy voice, when woods are still, And...thou, wild bramble ! back dost bring, In all their beauteous power, The fresh green days of life's fair spring. And boyhood's blossomy hour. Scorn'd bramble...

...slow, And 'mid the general hush, A sweet air lifts the little hough, Lone whispering through the hush ! The primrose to the grave is gone ; The hawthorn flower is dead ; The violet hy the moss'd grey stone Hath laid her weary head ; But thou, wild hramhle ! back dost hring. In all...

...feel how fair, Amid all 'beauty beautiful, Thy tender blossoms are I How delicate thy gauzy frill I How rich thy branchy stem ! How soft thy voice, when...hawthorn flower is dead ; The violet by the moss'd gray stone Hath laid her weary head ; But thou, wild bramble ! back dost bring, In all their beauteous...

...here lies the man Who drew them as they are. TO THE BRAMBLE FLOWER. THY fruit full well the schoolboy knows, Wild bramble of the brake ! So, put thou forth...hawthorn flower is dead ; The violet by the moss'd gray stone Hath laid her weary head ; But thou, wild bramble ! back dost bring, In all their beauteous...

...Though woodbines flaunt and roses glow O'er all the fragrant bowers, Thou need'st not be ashamed to shew Thy satin-threaded flowers ; For dull the eye, the...thou, wild bramble ! back dost bring, In all their beauteous power, The fresh green days of life's fair spring, And boyhood's blossomy hour. Scorn'd bramble...

...tells to man his glorious destinies. WILSON. TO THE BRAMBLE FLOWER. THT fruit full well the school-boy knows Wild bramble of the brake ! So, put thou forth...hawthorn flower is dead ; The violet by the moss'd gray stone Hath laid her weary head ; But thou, wild bramble ; back dost bring, In all their beauteous...

...long, the stone away. -Blackwood's Magazine. THE BRAMBLE FLOWER. THY fruit full well the schoolboy knows, Wild bramble of the brake ! So, put thou forth...; The hawthorn flower is dead ; The violet by the mossed gray stone Hath laid her weary head ; But thou, wild bramble! hack dost bring, In all their...

...here lies the man Who drew them as they are. TO THE BRAMBLE FLOWKE. THY fruit full well the school-boy knows, Wild bramble of the brake ! So, put thou forth...thou, wild bramble ! back dost bring, In all their beauteous power, The fresh green days of life's fair spring And boyhood's blossomy hour. Scorn'd bramble...

...Thy tender blossoms are ! How delicate thy gauzy frill ! How soft thy voice when woods are still ! The primrose to the grave is gone ; The hawthorn flower is dead ; The violet by the moss'd gray stone Has laid her weary head ; , But thou, mild bramble ! back dost bring In all their beauteous...