THE LOVER'S SIMILES.

Air.-Llwyn On, or the Ash Grove.

By John F. M. Dovaston.

THRO' the tints of the rainbow the tree that we're viewing,
Soft colour'd and lovely at distance appears;

But on to the grove the delusion pursuing,

We find the wet foliage all dripping with tears;
So the soft beams of hope, to the heart of the lover,
Illumine with rapture some lingering day;
But time, gliding on, leads him there to discover
His joys, like the rainbow, all faded away.

From the gloom of the shower, to the past valley running,
It smiles yet behind in the beams of the sun;
The lover alike, disappointed and mourning,
Remembers in sorrow the joys that are gone :
But transient alike are the ray and the shower,
The shower that shall freshen the fields to the ray;
And adversity's clouds o'er the lover that lower,
Shall brighten his joy when they're faded away.