PANSIES.

Pansies! pansies! what can compare With your varied colors so rich and rare? Beautiful flower—in thee I trace The features of the human face. And when I look into thine eyes, They greet me, with a glad surprise. I love to touch thy velvety cheek, And I almost fancy I hear thee speak. Ah! well-a-day pansy, you and I Must part, for the summer has gone by. Soon in thy wintry bed thou’lt be, And a mantle of snow will cover thee. There shalt thou rest, till the spring-time rain Awakes thee from thy sleep again;— Then thou’lt come forth as fresh and bright, As comes the sun, at the morning light. So farewell, pansy; farewell till the spring. I shall look for thee, when the robins sing.