TO THE PASSION FLOWER.

WELL art thou named-thou warm-hued Passion Flower,
Fit emblem of the ardour and caprice

Of that wild passion, Love:- for thou dost change,
Even like him, thy semblance; and thou art coy,

Aye, as the fairest maiden whose young heart
Thy namesake hath invaded Coy, and proud,
For thou, forsooth, must have the bright sun come,
And wait, and gaze upon thy sleeping face,*
Before thou wilt vouchsafe to ope thine eyes
Of starry beauty to our wondering gaze.
And then, ere long, the jealous petals close,
And shut within their selfish clasp the gem
They darken, not admire. And are there not
Some other selfish things in this strange world,
That do the like with flowers of lovelier growth?

Oh! ye are coy and proud-but beautiful-
Wondrously beautiful is every one

Among your varied tribes. Some of ye, pale,+
That hang in rich profusion o'er the porch

* Alluding to the Passion-flower only expanding in sunshine.

†The White, or, as it is sometimes called, Blue Passion-flower, grows in luxuriant profusion about cottages in the south of England, and more especially in the Isle of Wight.

Of many a cottage in our own dear land,
Clasping the Jasmine and the monthly Rose,
As in affection, for that they are not

The natives of our soil; but, like ye, deign
To glad a clime less genial than their own.

And some of ye are bright as the

young clouds That blush with joy to see the sun arise.

Such was the flower named after Her, whose loss

The isles long wept; alas! too true a type
That fair frail flower of early fading youth.

And how fantastic ye do sometimes go!

With nect'ries like to hair that stands on end,
And long-lobed leaves, and tendrils curling close,
Strongly upholding all the tangled mass.
Oh! to behold ye in your native homes,
Ye strange and glorious creations! There,
Springing 'mong giant trees, whose soaring tops
Are roofed by the o'er-arching sky, ye climb,
And bloom, and flourish in uncultured pride,

Gorgeously beautiful. I close mine eyes,
And fancy paints a wilderness of wealth,

In those scarce-trodden wilds, and forests vast,
And sunny prairies, of the western world,

* One of the most brilliant red Passion-flowers chanced to be first brought to England on the birth-day of the late Princess Charlotte, and thence was called Passiflora Princeps.