O! for some sadly dying note
Upon this silent hour to float,
Where from the bustling world remote,
The lyre might wake its melody;
One feeble strain is all can swell
From mine almost deserted shell,
In mournful accents yet to tell
That slumbers not its minstrelsy.
There is an hour of deep repose
That yet upon my heart shall close,
When all that nature dreads and knows
Shall burst upon me wond’rously;
O may, I then awake for ever
My harp to rapture’s high endeavour,
And as from earth’s vain scene I sever,
Be lost in Immortality!
FLORAL DIRECTORY.
La Julienne de Nuit. Hesperis tristis.
Dedicated to St. Juliana.
June 20.
St. Silverius, Pope, A. D. 538. St. Gobian, Priest and Martyr, about 656. St. Idaburga, or Edburge. St. Bain, Bp. of Terouanne (now St. Omer,) and Abbot, about A. D. 711.
Translation of Edward.
This day is so distinguished in the church of England calendar. Edward was the king of the West Saxons, murdered by order of Elfrida. He had not only an anniversary on the 18th of March, in commemoration of his sufferings, or rather of the silly and absurd miracles alleged to have been wrought at his tomb; but he was even honoured by our weak forefathers with another festival on the 20th of June, in each year, in remembrance of the removal, or translation, as it is termed, of his relics at Wareham, where they were inhumed, to the minster at Salisbury, three years after his decease.