While strolling thro' a garden on a lovely summer's eve,
The evening shadows were about to fall,
The dew had kiss'd the flowers and the air lull'd them to sleep,
While night's dark mantle hovered over all.
Seated on a bench, and meditating there alone,
My eyes grew dim, I soon fell in a doze.
I dreamt there was a wedding 'midst the flowers rich and rare,
The bride the Lily and the groom the Rose.
The Tulip kiss'd the Violet, the Daffodil the Pink,
The Lilies bow'd their heads in sweet repose,
The pretty Morning Glory told the Hyacinth the story
Of the weeding of the Lily and the Rose.
I soon awoke from slumber in fair flow'rs sweet domain,
Like virgin buds my eyes began to ope,
Fanned by the gentle zephyrs with Aeolian music sweet,
The Roses whispered to the Lilies hope.
The flowers soon began to drop their heads and fall asleep,
Rock'd by the gentle perfumed laden breeze,
The goddess of the flowers came and waved her magic wand,
And then I heard this whisper'd thro' the trees.