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IAa.

sYR. II. wiLpx.
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My lie islike ibe summer rose,

 Ths. opens to the mcFning sky. Bot ere the shades of evening close,

 is scattered oa the ground to die. Het on ihat Fnse's humble bed, ThA sweetest desss Of night are shed. As # she wepi such waste 10 see, Bot none shan weep tear for me. My life is like tho ausuma leaf.

 Ihat tresnbses m the rsooa's pale ray, its hold is frsil. is date is brief,

 Restless and soon 10 pass away; Het ere that leaf shall fall and fade, The parent tree shall mourn is shade, Ibe winds bewail the Ieafiess tree, b1i none sEfail breathe q sigh for me. Ny life is like the prints that feet

 Have left on Tempe's desert strand. Soon a the tising tide shat beat,

 All trace, will vanish from the sand. Iet, aa II grieving la effaee All rtstage of the hatnah race, Jn that lone shore load nOahs the sea, baf nsne. alas. sHsFf mourn for me