IV.

And day by day you might have seen These fibres longer grow;

And yet above, no sign of green

The life seemed all below.

V.

But only seemed; for ere they shot
The glasses half way down,
Each bulb displayed a little spot

Of green upon its crown.

VI.

And now on each returning morn,
Though never springing high,
The shining emerald leaves adorn
The root, and please the eye.

VII.

And quickly too the flower is seen; It can no longer hide;

For, growing faster than the green, Its veil must needs divide.

VIII.

And higher still it shoots above
The leaves with vigorous power,
Till scarce in garden or in grove
Were seen a lovelier flower.

IX.

Yet this were only half its praise:
Its petals, opening wide,

The sweetest perfume, as you gaze,
Diffuse on every side.

X.

And still the best remains to tell :
For, charming sight and scent,
It charms the listening ear as well

With kind admonishment.

XI.

'In us,' each gently whispers, ' trace

How needful is the root,

Before the lovely flowers of grace

From any heart can shoot.'

XII.

'Nor less remark, how healthful growth

May long unseen abide,

And sweetest beauty aye is loath

To throw its veil aside.'

XIII.

'Enough, if it be found at length To please the gazer's eye,

And win him by its grace and strength Himself to follow nigh.'

XIV.

'Tis thus each hyacinth, as it grows, Seems every day to preach;

And who can choose but follow those

That do so sweetly teach?

XLVI.

THE TIME-PIECE.

I.

UPON my chimney-shelf a time-piece stood,
With face of silver, and with hands of gold,
Encased so curiously in ebon wood,

It was a goodly time-piece to behold.

II.

Like many however with a face as bland,
It had a very independent way;

It differed wholly from the church at hand,
And sometimes seemed as 'twould outface the day.

III.

For haply just at setting of the sun,

When every eye the coming night could trace, This time-piece would pronounce it to be one,

And still persist with most unblushing face.

IV.

Feeling that argument were surely vain,
I strove to mitigate, if not to cure,
This daily, hourly evil,-which 'tis plain,
'Twas scarce in nature calmly to endure,—

V.

By opening oft the glass-door of its case,
Which hung upon a little hinge or joint,

And, with my finger thrust into its face,
The hands directing where they ought to point.

VI.

But this, since it was needful every day, Ere many weeks a tedious labour grew, "Till I was fain to seek some other way

Of making this mendacious time-piece true.

VII.

So, though I knew but little of the nature

Of all the cunning works its face behind, Yet, knowing just there was a regulator,

The regulator I resolved to find.