A GARLAND OF ROSES .

Yes! thou shalt wear
The wreath we are merrily braiding,
Of buds and blooms —
The beautiful roses of spring.
Amid the hair,
Thy forehead of snow o'ershadowing,
'T will mock the blush,
That steals to thy cheek as we sing!

For thee we twine —
For who could so gracefully wear it,
As she, whose heart
Is lovely and pure as the rose?
The wreath is thine —
And the happiness — each of us share it;
For thou art so meek,
No envy can mar thy repose!