103
LOVE'S PARTING WREATH.
I give thee, love, a blooming braid;
I cull'd it at eve's 'witching hour;
I twin'd it in the moon's sweet shade,
When starlight dew was on each flower.
I chose the myrtle's fadeless leaf,
For it will picture faith to thee;
I chose the cypress—'tis like grief—
And that may well my emblem be.
