TIIK TrMrLAKH JX CÏI'BCS. 71 Puil.lr. So let mo Remain then, and in garden-culture -till, (Tho work thou kindly gavent mo thyself, An liai» un for my wound*,) forget that I WM once myself a garden paraaite ! lift mo tho picture of a quiet life, With circumscribed horizon, still behold Mirror'd in these sweet flowers, and, pondering o'er Their forms renewed by Nature's boundless powers, Forgot how men demolish recklessly Tho garden of their God within themselves. Hero too I somewhat aid thy pur|Kses ; Thou mad'st mo Garden-Brother, giving me An office, in tho Order, of high worth ; Lightly to loose tho bandage from tho eyes Of every youthful neophyte that comes To us, with gay chimeras all aglow, And in this world of plants, where each as part, Promotes, within its working-limits assigned, The sure advancement of tho garden's whole, With all its might;—where high and low alike, On pain of being uprooted, cheerfully Partake tho nurturo of their fellow-plants ;— Your Temple's Holy of Holies show to them, Tho nursing-cradle fair of human kind. I*et mo proceed still further with this work, Still lovo again in every vigorous youth, Whose falso self's stains I wash away for you, Tho reflex of my dearly cherished dead !— My brother, graut'.st thou this ? * MOLAV (nizing hi* hum! fith emotion). Be gardener still ! [Exit 'jhieklij. Piunr (Alow). Thus ye young lives, I linger still with you ! Ah ! could ye never more my peace renew ? Or must crentivo Nature always show Destruction only to the sons of woe? [Krit pensir*.