For the COlumbian Fountain.
TO MY MOTHER.
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BAcHELoR's SCRAP. 4t
Oh there's flower that loves to curl
lis soitest tendris round the tree,
And all its brightest gems unfurl,


When winter frowns most drearily--
And often is its beauty seen
Enwreath'd in snow-lhe Evergreen
Oh there's a flower that loves to bind
The limb, that bends beneath the blast,
And ,enderly around il wind


ltself-untl the storm is past
And gently does the morrow beam
Upon It's vine--tha Evergreen.
II does not iwine it's tender stem


Around the branch that needs not
II does moi like to honor them .ftu
BY whom It's soon to be forgot.
Oh ! no-.its smile Is cfl'ner seen
Where wesps the oppressed---,he Evergreen,