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252   CYNTHIA TAGGART.

The rattling rain and hail,
With the deep sounding wail
Of wild and warring melodies, begin.

The wind flies fitful through the forest trees
With hollow howlings, and in wrathful mood;
As when some maniac fierce, disdaining ease,
Tears with convulsive power,
In horrid fury's hour,
His locks dishevelled; and a chilling moan
Breathes from his tortured breast, with dread and dismal tone

Thus, the impetuous blast
Doth from the woodlands tear
The leaves, when Summer's reign is past,
And signs aloud the requiem of despair;
Pours ceaseless the reverberated sign,
While past the honours of the forest fly,
Kiss the low ground, and flutter, shrink, and die.


ODE TO THE POPPY.

THOUGH varied wreaths of myriad hues,
As beams of mingling light,
Sparkle replete with pearly dews,
Waving their tinted leaves profuse,
To captivate the sight;
Though fragrance, sweet exhaling, blend
With the soft balmy air,
And gentle zephyrs, wafting wide
Their spicy odours bear;
While to the eye,
Delightingly,
Each floweret laughing blooms,
And o'er the fields
Prolific, yields



CYNTHIA TAGGART.   253

Its increase of perfumes;
Yet one alone o'er all the plain,
With lingering eye, I view;
Hasty, I pass the brightest bower,
Heedless of each attractive flower,
Its brilliance to pursue.

No odours sweet proclaim the spot
Where its soft leaves unfold;
Nor mingled hues of beauty bright
Charm and allure the captive sight,
With forms and tints untold.

One simple hue the plant portrays
Of glowing radiance rare,
Fresh as the roseate morn displays,
And seeming sweet and fair.

But closer prest, an odorous breath
Repels the rover gay;
And from her hand, with eager haste,
'T is careless thrown away;
And thoughtless that in evil hour
Disease may happiness devour,
And her fair form, elastic now,
To misery's wand may helpless bow.

Then Reason leads wan Sorrow forth
To seek the lonely flower;
And blest experience kindly proves
Its mitigating power.

Then, its bright hue the sight can trace,
The brilliance of its bloom;
Though misery veil the weeping eyes,
Though sorrow choke the breath with sighs,
And life deplore its doom.
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Transcription Notes:
---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-06-28 22:15:20