£

THE

LANGUAGE AND POETRY

FLOWERS.

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¥031

BY H. G. ADAMS.

" I nave gatnered a nosejjy ol Called Flowerf and brought nothing o( aij
own, tst the thread that lies them."

NEW YORK:
DERBY & JACKSOX, 119 NASSAU STREET

1858.

Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1S53, by
HENRY P. ANNERS,

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Eastern District
of Pennsylvania,

The motto chosen for the title page of this little
volume, will best explain the nature and plan of it,
and therefore the readers are spared the infliction of
a long elucidatory preface, which it is quite likely that
they would not take the trouble to read. Apologies
for putting forth a work on a similar subject to BO
many beautiful volumes as to have, during the last
few years, issued from the press, the Editor does not
conceive to be necessary, because he feels assured
that the taste for flowers, and for the poetical associa-
tions connected therewith, widely as it has been
extended and diffused among all classes, by these
various publications, is still a growing and increasing
one, and that there is yet room for many more works,
both original and collected, upon this most imagina-
tive and delightful of all subjects.

CONTENTS.

Language of Flowers, H. G. Adams, IS

Holy Flowers, Mary Howitt, 31

Water Lilies, Mrs. Hemans, 34

Albanian Love Letter, Leigh Hunt, So

Flower Girl, Mrs. Corbold, 37

The Bud of the Rose, 38

Forget Me Not, 39

Love in a Rose Bud, S. Coleridge, 41

To a Daisy, Wordsworth, 42

To a Bunch of Flowers, James L. Clark, 43

The Violet, 46

Autumn Flowers, 47

The Honey Suckle, Countess of Blessington, 49

The Rose Bud, Keeble, 51

Sun Flower, Thompson, 54

The Moss Rose, J. B. 55

Moral Flowers, H. G. Adams, 56

The Flower of the Desert, Mrs. Hemans, 75

The Flower of Fenestrella, 78

The Use of Flowers, Mrs. Howitt, 80

To a Flower Barry Cornwall, 82

A Song of the Rose, Mrs. Heman?, 84

CONTENTS.

Children and Flowers, H. G. Adams, 87

A Prospect of Flowers, Andrew Marvell, 108

Hyacinth, Casimir, 109

A Birth-Day Ballad, Mrs. Jewsburg, 110

The Furze, 112

Floral Ceremonies, H. G. Adams, 113

Hymn of the Turkish Children, Miss Pardoe, 132

Hindoo Girls Floating their Tributary

Offerings Down the Ganges, Miss Landon, 134

Funeral Flowers, H. G. Adams, 139

Lines, M. A. Brown, 158

Mrs. Hemans <k L. E. L., 161

Wedding Wake, George Darley, 162

The Dying Boy to the Sloe Blossom, E. Elliott, 164

Wild Flowers, H. G.Adams, 169

Heliotrope, 188

Wild Flowers Anne Pratt, 189

Decision of the Flower, L. E. L., 192

The Wild Flowers, F. J. Smith, 193

A Wild Flower Wreath, 194

The Cowslip, 196

Daffodils, 198

Violet's Spring Song, L. A. Twamley, 199

To a Rose, 201

The Alpine Violet, Byron, 205

CONTENTS.

Unchanted Plant?, by Madame Montolieu,

" Introdnction, 206

" Grumbling, 208

'• Scandal, 213

" Despair, 216

" Sensibility, 218

" Contention, 222

" Love, 225

Wall Flower , 229

Temptation. A Floral Fable, 230

Vulgarity, " " 234

Vanity. " " 238

On the Rose, H.Walton, 240

Songs and Chorus of the Flowers, Leigh Hunt, 241

The Lay of the Rose,. Elizabeth B. Bennett, 251

On a Faded Violet, Shelley, 261

Hare Bell, Marie Roseau, 262

The Forget Me Not, 264

Love shut out of the Flower Garden, Mrs. Laurence, 265
The Captive and Flowers, Goethe, 268

SUPPLEMENT.

Flowers, with the Sentiments which they represent,... 13
Sentiments and the Flowers by which they are
represented, ..„.„, 37

LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.

"The gentle flowers

Retired, and stooping o'er the wilderness,
Talked of humility, and peace, and love."

EGBERT POLLOK.

OVER what barren spot is it, reader, that the
" gentle flowers" shed, with most effect, their
sanctifying influence ? Is it not over that moral
" wilderness," the heart of man, that they
" stoop," and " talk of humility, and peace and
love," till the stony places become fruitful, and
produce abundantly, good thoughts, pure wishes,
and holy desires and aspirations ; till the sterile
waste changes to a garden ? It is, and none
that have ever truly listened to their eloquent
2 13

14 LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS.

preaching, have turned away unimproved and
uninstructed, for : —

"From the first bud, whose verdant head

The winter's lingering tempest braves,
To those, which 'mid the foliage dead,

Shrink latest to their annual graves ;
All are for use, for health, or pleasure given,
All speak, in various ways, the bounteous hand of Heaven."

CHARLOTTE SMITH.

These are the sentiments of a pure mind and
a lofty imagination, and the authoress of the
following words may well claim sisterhood with
her from whom they emanated : — " And who
dare say that flowers do not speak a language,
a clear and intelligible language ? Ask WORDS-
WORTH, for to him they have spoken, until they
excited f thoughts that lie too deep for tears ;'
ask CHAUCER, for he held companionship with
them in the meadows ; ask any of the poets,
ancient or modern. Observe them, reader, love
them, linger over them, and ask your own
heart if they do not speak affection, benevolence,
and piety ?" In confirmation of this, we also
quote some stanzas from another poet, whose

LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 15

volumes, as this authoress truly observes, " are
like a beautiful country, diversified with woods,
meadows, heaths, and flower-gardens :"* —

" Bowing adorers of the gule,
Ye cowslips delicately pale,

Upraise your loaded stems;
Unfold your cups in splendour, apeak !
Who decked you with that ruddy streak,
And gilt your golden gems ?

"Violets, sweet tenants of the shade,
In purple's richest pride arrayed,

Your errand here fulfil
Go, bid the artist's simple stain
Your lustre imitnte in vain,

And match your Maker's skill.

" Daisies, ye flowers of lowly birth,
Embroiderers of the carpet earth,

That stud the velvet sod,
Open to Spring's refreshing air,
In sweetest, smiling bloom, declare

Your Maker, and my God." — JOHN CLAHE.

Verily, it was well said, that " Solomon, in all
his glory was not arrayed like one of these ;"
and well was it continued, by a lately departed

* Flora Domestica.

16 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.

poet, " and Solomon, in all his wisdom never
taught more wholesome lessons than these
silent monitors convey to a thoughtful mind
and an understanding heart." " There arc
two books," says SIR THOMAS BROWNE, " from
whence I collect my divinity ; besides that
written one of God, another of His servant,
nature, that universal and public manuscript
that lies expanded unto the eyes of all. Those
who never saw Him in the one have discovered
Him in the other. This was the scripture and
theology of the heathens ; the natural motion of
the sun made them more admire Him than its
supernatural station did the children of Israel;
the ordinary effects of nature wrought more
admiration in them, than in the other all his
miracles. Surely the heathens knew better
how to join and read these mystical letters, than
we Christians, who cast a more careless eye on
these common hieroglyphics, and disdain to
suck divinity from the flowers of nature."

" Flowers," says MR. PHILLIPS, " formed a
principal feature in symbolical language, which
is the most ancient, as well as the most natural,

LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 17

of all languages. It was an easy transition,
after they had come to be regarded as proofs
and manifestations of divine love, goodness, and
protection, to make them the signs and symbols
of human feelings and passions ; hence hopes,
fears, and desires, joys and sorrows, and all the
sentiments and emotions which sway and agitate
the soul of man, have had their appropriate
expression in these mute, yet eloquent letters
of the blooming " alphabet of creation :" —

" By all those token flowers that tell
What words can ne'er express so well." — BYROJT.

Sings the poet of our day, adjuring his mistress
to believe in his truth and fidelity, and so, though
in somewhat different words, might have sung,
and very likely did sing, the Israelite of old on
the flowery banks of Jordan, the Babylonian in
his hanging gardens, or the swarthy son of
Egypt, who, kneeling by the mysterious Nile,
might have plucked the blossom of the bright
nymphoea, and putting it to his lips, and turning
to the earthly idol of his adoration, have said : —

18 LANGUAGE OF FLOWEES

" The lotus flower, whose leaves I now

Kiss silently,

Far more than words can tell thee how
I worship thee." — MOORE.

This may be considered by some of our readers
a fanciful theory, but surely it has as good
foundations for its support, as many an hypo-
thesis which has obtained universal approbation
and credit.

" When nature laughs out in all the triumph
of spring, it may be said, without a metaphor
that, in her thousand varieties of flowers, we
see the sweetest of her smiles ; that, through
them, we comprehend the exultation of her
joys : and that, by them, she wafts her songs
of thanksgiving to the heaven above her, which
repays her tribute of gratitude with looks of
love. Yes, flowers have their language. Theirs
is an oratory, that speaks in perfumed silence,
and there is tenderness, and passion, and even
the light-hearted ness of mirth in the variegated
beauty of their vocabulary. To the poetical
mind, they are not mute to each other ; to the
piousi, they are not mute to their Creator. . . .

LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 19

No spoken word can approach to the delicacy
of sentiment to be inferred from a flower sea-
sonably offered, the softest impression may thus
be convoyed without offence, and even profound
grief alleviated, at a moment when the most
tuneful voice would grate harshly on the ear,
and when the stricken soul can be soothed only
by unbroken silence."

But let us recur to the words of this " Pro-
fessor of the gentle art," and evidence their
truth by a few examples showing the effect of
" floral language" upon a mind stricken with
grief. Listen to PHILASTKR : —

" I have a boy,

Sent by tbe gods, I hope, to this intent,
Not yet seen in the court. Hunting the buck,
I found him sitting by a fountain's side,
Of which he borrowed some to quench his thirst,
And paid the nymph again as much in tears
A garland lay him by, made by himself
Of many several flowers, bred in the bay,
Stuck in that mystic order, that the rareness
Delighted me. But ever when he turned
His tender eyes upon 'em, he would weep,
As if he meant to make 'em grow again.
Seeing such pretty helpless innocence

20 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.

Dwell in his face, I asked him all his story.

Ho told me that his parents gentle died,

Leaving him to the mercy of the fields,

Which gave him roots, and of the crystal springs,

Which did not stop their courses ; and the sun,

Which still, he thanked him, yielded him his light.

Then took he up his garland, and did show

What every flower, as country people hold,

Did signify ; and how all, ordered thus,

Expressed his grief: And, to my thoughts, did read

The prettiest lecture of his country art

That could be wished. I gladly entertained him,

Who was as glad to follow, and have got

The trustiest, loving'st, and the gentlest boy,

That ever master kept. Him will I send

To wait on you, and bear our hidden love."

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

Thus did the gentle boy mitigate his grief by
turning an emblematic wreath into a mute
expression of it.

" Give sorrow words : the grief, that docs not speak,
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break."

Says Malcolm to the bereaved husband and
father in " Macbeth," — and this poor orphan
had hit upon a mode of giving his (l sorrow
words," more touching, perhaps, than a more
loud and violent utterance could have been.

LANGUAGE Of FLOWERS. 21

Another bard has given us an example of the
power which he attributes to flowers for allaying
the tempest of grief, rage, and hate, passions
which sometimes meet and struggle for mastery
in the human bosom, rendering him whom they
control speechless, and sullen as the cloud,
before the rattling thunder and the vivid light-
ning breaks forth, to scathe and destroy. In
" The Bride of Abydos," Selim, after listening
to the taunts and reproaches of old Giaffir,
stands thus moody and silent, a prey to these
contending passions, when : —

"To him Zulieka's eye was turned,
But little from his aspect learned;
******

Thrice paced she ilowly through the room,
And watched his eye — it still was fixed :
She snatched the urn, wherein was mixed

The Persian Atar-gul's perfume,

And sprinkled all its odors o'er

The pictured roof and marbled floor ;

The drops, that through his glittering vest

The playful girl's appeal addressed,

Unheeded o'er his bosom flew,

As if that breast were marble too.

What, sullen yet ? it must not be —

Oh ! gentle Selim, this from thee ?'

22 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.

She saw in curious order set

The fairest flowers of Eastern land —
'He loved them once — may touch them yet,

If offered by Zulieka'.s hand.'
The childish thought was hardly breathed
Before the rose was plucked and wreathed ;
The next fond moment saw her seat
Her fairy form at Selim's feet :
This rose, to calm my brother's cares,
A message from the Bulbul bears ;
It says to-night he will prolong,
For Selim's ear the sweetest song;
And though his note is somewhat sad,
He'll try for once a strain more glad,
With some faint hope his altered lay,
May sing these gloomy thoughts away.'

W • * -:::- «- *

He lived — he breathed — he moved — he felt
He raised the maid from where she knelt j
His trance was gone — his keen eye shone
With thoughts that long in darkness dwelt;
With thoughts that burn — in rays that melt."

BYRON.

Let us present our readers with another picture,
somewhat similar to the first, only that the grief
is here deeper and more irremediable : —

"She lived on alms, and carried in her hand
Some withered stalks she gathered in the spring,-

LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 23

When any asked the cause, she smiled, and said
They were her sisters, and would come and watch
Her grave when she was (load. She never spoke
Of her deceased father, mother, home,
Or child, or heaven, or hell, or God, b^t still
In lonely places walked, and ever gazed
Upon the withered stalks, and talked to them;
Till wasted to the shadow of her youth,
With woe too wide to see beyond, she died."

POLLOK.

These withered stalks were to her as beautiful
and full of perfume as when they were first
plucked, and she regarded them as the friends
and companions of her youth, talking to them,
and receiving answers — words of love and
affection. We are here reminded of poor
Ophelia, who in her madness made " fantastic
garlands"

"Of crow flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples."
Of which it has been observed that they are
all emblematic flowers, the first signifying, Fair
Maid; the second, stung to the quick; the
third, her virgin bloom; the fourth, under the
cold hand of death ; and the whole being wild
flowers, might denote the bewildered state of
her faculties.

24 LANGUAGE OS FLOJFEBS.

"It would be difficult," says the author of
this observation, " to find a more emblematic
wreath for this interesting victim of disappointed
love and filial sorrow." This is only one of
many instances in which our greatest poet has
displayed his fondness for flowers, and his
delicate appreciation of their uses and simili-
tudes. We have another in the " Winter's
Tale," where he makes Perdita give flowers to
her visitors appropriate to, and symbolical of,
their various ages. See Act 4, Scene 3.

The mystical Language of Flowers, as applied
to the passions and sentiments, appears to have
had its rise in those sunny regions where the
rose springs spontaneously from its native soil,
and the jessamine and the tuberose fill with
beauty and perfume alike the garden and the
wilderness.

11 Certainly," says a writer in the Edinburgh
Magazine of 1818, "the influence of this land
of the sun has been felt by the pilgrims from
our colder climes, and they have presented to
us a pleasing fable in the Language of Flowers,
and our imaginations have received with delight

LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 25

tne descriptions and interpretations with which
we have been favored from time to time. We
have dwelt on, till we have become enamored
of the delicate mode of expressing the rise and
progress of love by the gift of the tender rose-
bud, or the full blown flower. We have pitied
the despair indicated by a present of myrtle
interwoven with cypress and poppies, and we
believe that these emblems will never cease
to convey some similar sentiments, wherever
poetry is cultivated or delicacy understood."
— The same author continues, " But" — Oh,
reader, mark that "but," 'tis a frightful word,
is it not ? ever coming-to dissipate some bright
dream, to scare some beautiful phantom of the
imagination from our presence, and to guide our
wandering feet back into the world of cold
reality, where —

" The mute expression of sweet nature's voices,
Are drowned amid the turmoil of life's noises ;
Where thoughts of fear and darkness come unbidden,
And love and hope are into silence chidden." — H. G. A.

« But we fear that the Turkish { Language of

Flowers,' which Lady Montague first made

3

J

26 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.

popular in this country, has little claim to so
refined an origin, as either purity or the delicacy
of passion. We had been taught to believe
that it served as a means of communication
between the prisoners of the harem and their
friends or lovers without : but how could it be
thus used, when the emblematic nosegay must
convey as much intelligence to the guardians
and fellow-prisoners of one of the parties, as to
the party herself? The truth appears to be
that the 4 Language of Flowers' and other
inanimate objects, has arisen in the idleness of
the harem, from the desire of amusement and
variety which the ladies shut up there, without
employment, and without culture, must feel.
It answers the purpose of enigmas, the solution
of which, amuses the vacant hours of the
Turkish ladies, and is founded on a sort of
crambo or bout rimt, of which M. HAMMER
has given not less than an hundred specimens."
We quote one of the specimens given by this
ingenious Frenchman, in the Turkish and Eng-
lish languages : —

" Armonde — wer bana bir Ominde."
" Pear — Let me not Despair."

LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 27

This, though not strictly floral, is the most
manageable as regards the translation that could
be hit upon, and we have therefore chosen it.
Sometimes a word has various meanings, as
various sentences rhyme with it ; for instance :

" Rose — You smile, but still my anguish grows.
Rose — For tliee my heart with love still glows."

Sometimes a double rhyme belongs to a single
word, as : —

" Tea — You are both sun and moon to me,
Your's is the light by which I sec."

And often times two flowers combined may form
a stanza, as : —

" The opening rose-bud shows how pure

My love for thee, thou charming maid;
The j> »it, alas ! thy proud disdain,

With which my ardent passion's paid."

By the above examples, it will be seen that
there is nothing on earth, in air, or water, to
which a meaning may not be attached, but
these meanings are very arbitrary, depending
more upon the sound of words, which will
rhyme with the object named, than on any real
or fancied similarity of significance in their

28 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.

nature or properties. But what a heresy is it
to call this system of arbitrary meanings the
"Language of Flowers;" what a departure
from that only true faith, the principal tenet of
which is a firm and fervent belief in the signifi-
cance of nature ! If God speaks in the elements
— and who shall doubt ? — if the winds, and the
waves, and the loud rattling thunders, testify of
his power and majesty, do not the forest trees
also, and the grasses of the fields, and the
beautiful blossoms which adorn like living
gems, the bosom of the earth, — have not these
voices — voices of instruction, and reproof, and
sympathy, and love, and "all that is most gentle
and benign ? Assuredly they have ! Let us
then look upon them not as the mere play-
things of an idle hour, — as gauds and decora-
tions for the frivolous and vain, but as something
too sacred to be made the symbols of false
sentiments, and feigned, or evil passions.

Truly the real-" Language of Flowers" is no
system of unmeaning similitudes ; there is a
deeper significance attached to every plant and
flower, indeed to every object in nature, than

LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 29

the mere sensualist or the shallow sentimentalist
would imagine ; and here are the words of one
who has studied them deeply, and knows that
they are types and characters of the glorious
revelation, second only to that direct one which
God has given us in the Bible. What says he: —

"Listen to the words of wisdom,

Uttered by the tongue of truth,
Tottering age and manly vigour,

Listen ye — and smiling youth." — H. G. A.

" Books are great and glorious agents of civili-
zation and happiness. They are the silent
teachers of mankind, filling the mind with
wisdom, and strengthening the understanding
for the strife of action ; making us powerful and
gentle, wise and humble, at the same time.
But we cannot be always buried in our books ;
we must sometimes go out into the sunshine,
and it is necessary, in order to enjoy our books,
that we should also enjoy the privilege of air
and light, drinking in health and vigor, to
enable us to make the bggt_and most profitable
use of our sedentary hours. In direct opposi-
tion then to books, or rather in secret combination
3*

30 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.

with them, we would place flowers — the out-of-
door books Nature has so liberally provided for
us, in so rich a variety of types and bindings,
as to leave us no excuse for not gratifying all
our individual tastes. The lover of flowers has
this advantage over the lover of books, that he
can never be at a loss for variety ; but we
suspect the classification is somewhat arbitrary,
and that there is hardly any one who loves the
one, who does not also love the other. The
best way to enjoy either is to enjoy both ; to
take them alternately, so that they may relieve
and show off each other to the best advantage.
A walk in an open field, and one hour spent in
gathering wild flowers, to be afterwards grouped
into a vase upon the library table, is by no
means the least suggestive preparation for a
morning's reading." — Yes, and then, as we
inhale their balmy freshness, and look upon
their beautiful hues, we shall thiuk of the spots
in which we have gatherered them, and our
spirits will become invigorated, our thoughts
more penetrating, and our minds strengthened
for the work before us.

HOLY FLOWERS.

ET MART nOWITT.

Mindful of the pious festivals which our church pre-
•eribes, I have sought to make these charming objects of
floral nature, the time-piece* of my religious calendar, and
the mementoes of the hastening period of my mortality.
Thus I can light the taper to our Virgin Mother on the
blowing of the white snow-drop, which opens its floweret
at the time of Candlemas ; the lady's smock, and the
daffodil, remind me of the Annunciation ; the blue hare-
bell, of the Festival of St. George ; the ranunculus, of the
Invention of the Cross ; the scarlet lychnis, of St. John
the Baptist's day ; the white lily, of the Visitation of our
Lady ; and the Virgin's bower, of her Assumption ; and
Michaelmas, Martinmas, Holyrood, and Christmas, have
all their appropriate monitors. I leitrn the time of day
from the shutting of the blossoms of the Star of Jerusalem
and the Dandelion, and the hour of the night by the stars.

A

Ah ! simple-hearted piety,
In former days such flowers could see.
The peasant, wending to his toil,
Beheld them deck the leafy soil ;

31

32 HOLT FLOWERS.

They sprung around his cottage door ;
He saw them on the heathy moor ;
Within the forest's twilight glade,
Where the wild deer its covert made ;
In the green vale remote and still,
And gleaming on the ancient hill.
The days are distant now — gone by
With the old times o( minstrelsy ;
When all unblest with written lore,
Were treasured up traditions hoar ;
And each still lake and mountain lone,
Had a stern legend of its own ;
And hall, and cot, and valley-stream,
Were hallowed by the minstrel's dream.

Then, musing in the woodland nook
Each flower was as a written book,
Recalling, by memorial quaint,
The holy deed of martyred saint ;
The patient faith, which, unsubdued,
Grew mightier, tried through fire and blood.
One blossom, 'mid its leafy shade,
The virgin's purity portrayed ;
And one, with cup all crimson dyed,
Spoke of a Saviour crucified ;

HOLY FLOWER 8. 33

And rich the store of holy thought

That little forest flower brought,

Doctrine and miracle, whate'er

We draw from books, was treasured there.

Faith, in the wild woods tangled bound,

A blessed heritage had found ;

And Charity and Hope were seen

In the lone isle, and wild ravine.

Then pilgrims, through the forest brown,

Slow journeying on from town to town,

Halting 'mong mosses green and dank,

Breathed each a prayer before he drank

From waters by the pathway side ;

Then duly morn, and eventide,

Before those ancient crosses grey,

Now mould'ring silently away,

Aged and young devoutly bent

In simple prayer — how eloquent !

For each good gift man then possessed

Demanded blessing, and was blest.

What though in our pride's selfish mood
We hold those times as dark and rude,
Yet give we, from our wealth of mind,
More grateful feeling, or refined ?

34 HOLT FLOWERS.

And yield \ve unto Nature aught
Of loftier, or of holier thought,
Than they who gave sublimest power
To the small spring, and simple flower ?

THE WATER LILIES.

There's a spring in the woods by my sunny

home,

Afar from the dark sea's tossing foam ;
Oh ! the fall of that fountain is sweet to hear,
As a song from the shore to the sailor's ear !
And the sparkle which up to the sun it throws
Through the feathery fern and the olive boughs
And the gleam on its path as its steals away
Into deeper shade from the sultry day ;
And the large Water-lilies that o'er its bed,
Their pearly leaves to the soft light spread ;
These haunt me ; I dream of that bright spring's

flow,
I thirst for its rills like a wounded roe.

MRS. HEMANS.

THE ALBANIAN LOVE-LETTER.

BY LEIGII HUNT.

An exquisite invention this,

Worthy of Love's most honied kiss,

This art of writing billet-doux

In buds, and odors, and bright hues, —

In saying all one feels and thinks,

In clever daffodils and pinks,

Uttering (as well as silence may)

The sweetest words the sweetest way :

How fit, too, for the lady's bosom,

The place where billet-doux repose 'em.

How charming in some rural spot,
Combining love with garden plot,
At once to cultivate one's flowers
And one's epistolary powers,
Growing one's own choice words and fancies
In orange tubs and beds of pansies ;
One's sighs and passionate declarations
In odorous rhet'ric of carnations ;

35

36 THE ALBANIAN LOVE LETTER.

Seeing how far one's stock will reach ;
Taking due care one's flowers of speech
To guard from blight as well as bathos,
And watering, every day, one's pathos.

A letter comes just gathered, we

Doat on its tender brilliancy ;

Inhale its delicate expression

Of balm and pea ; and- its confession,

Made with as sweet a maiden blush

As ever morn bedew'd in bush ;

And then, when we have kissed its wit,

And heart, in water putting it,

To keep its remarks fresh, go round

Our little eloquent plot of ground ;

And with delighted hands compose

Our answer, all of lily and rose,

Of tuberose and of violet,

And little darling (mignionette) ;

And gratitude and polyanthus,

And flowers that say, <•' Felt never man thus !"

J

THE FLOWER GIRL.

BY MBS. CORBOLD.

Come buy, come buy my mystic flowers,
All ranged with due consideration,

And culled in fancy's fairy bowers,
To suit each age and every station.

For those who late in life would tarry,
I've Snowdrops, winter's children cold ;

And those who seek for wealth to marry
May buy the flaunting Marigold.

I've Ragwort, Ragged Robins, too,

Cheap flowers for those of low condition ;

For Bachelors I've Buttons blue ;
And Crown Imperials for ambition.

For sportsmen keen, who range the lea,

I've Pheasant's Eye, and sprigs of Heather ;

For courtiers with the supple knee,
I've Parasites and Prince's- Feather.
4 37

38 THE FLOWER GIRL.

For thin, tall fops, I keep the Bush,

For peasants still am Nightshade weeding ;

For rakes, I've Devil-in-the-Bush,
For sighing Strephons, Love-lies-Bleeding.

But fairest blooms affection's hand
For constancy and worth disposes,

And gladly weaves at your command,
A wreath of Jlmaranths and Roses.

THE BUD OF THE ROSE,

Her raouth, which a smile,
Devoid of all guile,
Half opened to view,
Is the bud of the rose,
In the morning that blows,
Impearled with the dew.
More fragrant her breath
Than the flower-scented heath
At the dawning of day ;
The lily's perfume,
The hawthorn in bloom,
Or the blossoms of May.

FORGET ME NOT.

BLOSSOMS more rich and rare than thou
May twine round Beauty's graceful brow

In moods of sunny mirth ;
The Rose's or the Myrtle's flower
Might more beseem her festive hour,
And give, in Pleasure's careless bower,

To brighter fancies birth.

But in those moments, sad, yet dear,
When parting wakes Affection's tear,

Thy stainless blossom's braid,
Whose tuaat forbid* us to forget,
Would be the chosen coronet
Love on the loveliest brow would set

To crave fond Memory's aid.

When " earth to earth," and " dust to dust,"
The lov'd, lamented, we entrust,

What flower may grace the spot
Where sleep the reliques of the dead, *

39

40 FORGET-ME-NOT.

For whom the frequent tear is shed,
Like thine — which, from the grave's cold bed,
Repeats " Forget me not !"

Yet not in pensive moods alone
Thy heart-appalling name we own

To love, to friendship dear ;
Were not that name with joy combin'd,
Were not thy bright blue blossoms twin'd
With hopes as bright — thou wouldst not find

An honour'd station here.

Not in our volume's opening leaf
Should flowers which only imag'd grief

A mournful emblem stand ;
For unforgetting Love ; whose light
Makes even sorrow's clouds look bright,
In joy and hope, with magic might,

The feeling can expand.

And therefore would we place thee here,
Symbol of hopes the heart holds dear,

In every clime and age ;
Thoughts lov'd in sunshine or in gloom

FOROET-ME-NOT. 41

Priz'd from the cradle to the tomb,
Prompt us to wreathe thy azure bloom
To deck our opening page.

Here, then, 'mid pointed leaves of green,
Be thy cerulean blossoms seen,

To grace our garden-plot ;
Nor would we prouder flowers entwine
Round Friendship's or Affection's shrine,
Than one which can recall, like thine,

The words " FORGET ME NOT !"

LOVE IN A ROSE-BUD.

A FRAGMENT.
BT COLERIDGE.

As late each flower that sweetest blows
I plucked, the garden pride ;

Within the petals of a rose
A sleeping love I spied.

Around his brows a beamy wreath

Of many a lucent hue ;
All purple glowed his cheek beneath,

Inebriate with dew.

4*

TO A DAISY.

BY WORDSWORTH.

BRIGHT flower, whose home is every where !

A pilgrim bold in Nature's care,

And oft, the long year through, the heir

Of joy or sorrow ;
Methinks that there abides in thee
Some concord with humanity,
Given to no other flower I see

The forest through !

And wherefore ? Man is soon deprest ;
A thoughtless thing who, once unblest,
Does little on his memory rest,

Or on his reason :

But thou wouldst teach him how to find
A shelter under every wind ;
A hope for times that are unkind,

And every season.

42

TO A BUNCH OF FLOWERS.

BY BEV. JAMES F. CLARKE.

LITTLE firstlings of the year !
Have you come my room to cheer ?
You are dry and parched, I think ;
Stand within this glass and drink ;
Stand beside me on the table,
'Mong my books — if I am able,
I will find a vacant space
For your bashfulness and grace ;
Learned tasks and serious duty
Shall be lightened by your beawty.
Pure affection's sweetest token,
Choicest hint of love unspoken,
Friendship in your help rejoices,
Uttering her mysterious voices.
You are gifts the poor may offer —
Wealth can find not better proffer :
For you tell of tastes refined,
Thoughtful heart and spirit kind.

43

44 TO A BUNCH OF FLOWERS.

Gift of gold or jewel dresses,

Ostentation's thought confesses ;

Simplest mind this boon may give,

Modesty herself receive.

For lovely woman you were meant

The just and natural ornament,

Sleeping on her bosom fair,

Hiding in her raven hair, ^

Or, peeping out mid golden curls,

You outshine barbaric pearls ;

Yet you lead no thought astray,

Feed not pride nor vain display,

Nor disturb her sisters' rest,

Waking envy in their breast.

Let the rich, with heart elate,

Pile their board with costly plate ;

Richer ornaments are ours,

Wo will dress our home with flowers ;

Yet no terror need we feel

Lest the thief break through to steal.

Ye are playthings for the child,

Gifts of love for maiden mild,

Comfort for the aged eye,

For the poor, cheap luxury.

TO A BUNCH OF FLOWERS. 45

Though your life is but a day
Precious things, dear flowers, you say,
Telling that the Being good
Who supplies our daily food,
Deems it needful to supply
Daily food for heart and eye.
So, though your life is but a day,
We grieve not at your swift decay ;
He, who smiles in your bright faces,
Sends us more to take your places ;
'Tis for this ye fade so soon,
That he may renew the boon :
That kindness often may repeat
These mute messages so sweet :
That Love to plainer speech may get,
Conning oft his alphabet ;
That beauty may be rain'd from heaven,
New with every morn and even,
With freshest fragrance sunrise greeting :
Therefore are ye, flowers, so fleeting.

THE VIOLET.

VIOLETS ! — deep-blue violets !

April's loveliest coronets !

There are no flowers grow in the vale,

Kissed by the dew, wooed by the gale, —

None by the dew of the twilight wet,

So sweet as the deep-blue violet !

I do remember how sweet a breath

Came with the azure light of a wreath

That hung round the wild harp's golden chords,

Which rang to my dark-eyed lover's words.

I hare seen that dear harp rolled

With gems of the East and bands of gold ;

But it never was sweeter than when set

With leaves of the deep-blue violet !

And when the grave shall open for me, —

I care not how soon that time may be, —

Never a rose shall grow on that tomb,

It breathes too much of hope and of bloom ;

But there be that flower's meek regret,

The bending and deep-blue violet !
46

LINE S

SUGGESTED BY THE SIGHT OF SOME LATE ACTUMH
FLOWEES.

THESE few pale Autumn flowers,

How beautiful they are !
Than all that went before,
Than all the summer store,

How lovelier far !

And why ? they are the last !

The last ! the last ! the last
Oh ! by that little word
How many thoughts are stirred,

That whisper of the past !

Pale flowers ! pale perishing flowers,

Ye're types of precious things ;
Types of those better moments
That flit, like Life's enjoyments,
On rapid, rapid wings.

47

48

Last hours with parting dear ones
(That time the fastest spends) ;

Last tears in silence shed ;

Last words half uttered ;
Last looks of dying friends.

Who but would fain compress

A life into a day, —
The last day spent with one
Who, ere to-morrow's sun,

Must leave us, and for aye !

0 precious, precious moments,

Pale flowers ; ye're types of those ;
The saddest, sweetest, dearest,
Because, like those, the nearest,

To an eternal close.

Pale flowers ! pale perishing flowers !
I woo your gentle breath ;

1 leave the summer rose
For younger, blither brows ;

Tell me of change and death '

ANON,

THE HONEYSUCKLE.

«

BY THE COUNTESS OF BLESSIXGTON.

SEE the honeysuckle twine
Round this casement : — 'tis a shrine
Where the heart doth incense give,
And the pure, affections live
In the mother's gentle breast
By her smiling infant press'd.

Blessed shrinu ! dear, blissful home !
Source whence happiness doth come !
Round by the cheerful hearth \ve meet
All things beauteous — all thing sweet —
Every solace of man's life,
Mother, daughter — sister — wife !

5 49

50 THE HONEYSUCKLE.

England, isle of free and brave,
Circled by the Atlantic wave !
Though we seek the fairest land
That the south wind ever fann'd,
Yet we cannot hope to see
Homes so holy as in thee.

As the tortoise turns its head
Towards its native ocean-bed,
Howsoever far it be
From its own beloved sea,
Thus, dear Albion, evermore
Do we turn to seek thy shore '

'HE ROSE-BUD.

BY KKEBLE.

WHEN Nature tries her finest touch,

Weaving her vernal wreath,
Mark ye, how close she veils her round,
Not to be traced by sight or sound,
Nor soiled by ruder breath !

Who ever saw the earliest rose
First open her sweet breast ?
Or, when the summer sun goes down,
The first soft star in evening's crown
Light up her gleaming crest?

Fondly we seek the dawning bloom

On features \van and fair —
The gazing eye no change can trace,
But look away a little space,

Then turn, and lo ! 'tis there.

51

52 THEROSE-BUD.

But there's a sweeter flower than e'er

Blushed on the rosy spray —
A brighter star, a richer bloom
Than e'er did western heaven illume
At close of summer day.

'Tis love, the last best gift of heaven ;

Love — gentle, holy, pure :
But tenderer than a dove's soft eye,
The searching sun, the open sky,

She never could endure.

Even human love will shrink from sight

Here in the coarse rude earth :
How then should rash intruding glance
Break in upon her sacred trance,
Who boasts a heavenly birth ?

So still and secret is her growth,

Ever the truest heart,
Where deepest strikes her kindly root
For hope or joy, for flower or fruit,

Least known its happy part.

TUB ROSE-BUD.

63

God only, and good angels, look

Behind the blissful screen —
As when, triumphant o'er his woes,
The Son of God, by moonlight rose,

By all but Heaven unseen :

As when the holy maid beheld

Her risen Son and Lord :
Thought has not colors half so fair
That she to paint that hour may dare,

In silence best adored.

The gracious Dove, that brougnt from heaven

The earnest of our bliss,
Of many a chosen witness telling,
On many a happy vision dwelling,

Sings not a note of this.

So, truest image of the Christ,

Old Israel's long-lost Son,
What time, with sweet forgiving cheer,
He called his conscious brethren near,

Would weep with them alone.
5*

54 T H E R 0 S E - B U D.

He could not trust his melting soul

But in his Maker's sight —
Then why should gentle hearts and true
Bare to the rude world's withering view
Their treasures of delight ?

No — let the dainty rose awhile

Her bashful fragrance hide —
Rend not her silken veil too soon,
But leave her, in her own soft noon,
To flourish and abide.

THE SUNFLOWER.

BY THOMPSON.

Who can unpitying see the flow'ry race
Shed by the moon their new flush'd bloom resign
Before the parching beam ? so fades the face,
When fevers revel through their azure veins.
But one the lofty follower of the sun,
Sad when he sits, shuts up her yellow leaves,
Drooping all night, and when he warm returns
Points her enamour'd bosom to his ray.

THE MOSS ROSE.

FROM THK GERMAN.
BY fr. B.

THE Angel of the flowers one day,

Beneath a rose-tree sleeping lay ;

That spirit to whom charge is given

To bathe young buds in dews of Heaven ;

Awaking from his light repose,

The angel whispered to the rose : —

" Oh, fondest object of my care,

Still fairest found, where all is fair ;

For the sweet shade thou giv'st to me,

Ask what thou wilt, 'tis granted thee !"

" Then," said the rose, with deepen'd glow,

" On me another grace bestow."

The spirit paused in silent thought :

What grace was there the flower had not?

'Twas but a moment — o'er the rose
A veil of moss the angel throws ;
Anil robed in Nature's simplest weed,
Could there a flower that rose exceed ?

55

MORAL OF FLOWERS.

" Not a tree,

A plant, a leaf, a blossom but contains
A folio volume. We may read, and read,
And read again, and still find something new,
Something to please, and something to instruct,
E'en in th« noisome weed." — HURDIS.

FLOWERS have been, to the poets of all ages,
and in all countries, a never-failing source of
inspiration, and to mankind at large, " a joy, a
pure delight," from the creation even to the
present time ; and will be so, while we have
eyes to see, and hearts to understand and ap-
preciate the blessings that are scattered around
us, for, as KEATS says : —

" A thing of beauty is a joy for ever ;
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams and health.
56

MORAL OF FLOWERS.

And is not a Flower " a thing of beauty ?" —
is it not a thing of surpassing loveliness ? Who
can gaze on its exquisitely perfect form, its un-
rivalled brilliancy of hue, without a thrill of
admiration, and a sensation of pleasure ? —
pleasure which passeth not away, but dwelleth
on the memory like a pleasant perfume, that
remains long after the object from whence it
emanated has perished; and why is this?
because of its purity, its freedom from aught
that is gross and therefore perishable. None,
we venture to aver, can gaze on those beautiful
" alphabets of creation," those adorners of
earth's bosom, unmoved, but such as have hearts
utterly corrupted, and rendered impervious tc
every sweet and gentle impression ; and even
such will at times feel stirring within them at
the sight, thoughts that have long slumbered,
and awakened by those " silent monitors," the
"still small voice of conscience" is heard, in-
citing them to shake off the trammels of guilt,
and return to the ways of pleasantness and
peace, wherein their feet once trod, when —

68 , MORAL OF FLOWERS.

" The flowers in silence seemed to breathe
Such thoughts as language could not tell." — BYROX.

We have called the flowers "silent monitors,"
and not unadvisedly, for many are the lessons
they teach, of patient submission, meek endu-
rance, and innocent cheerfulness under the
pressure of adverse circumstances : —

" They smilingly fulfil

Their Maker's will,
All meekly bending 'neath the tempest's weight

By pride unvisited,

Though richly raimented,
As is a monarch in his robes of state." — H. G. A.

Many are the moral precepts they inculcate,
bidding us admire the wisdom of their Omnipo-
tent Creator, in their infinite variety of forms
and colors, and perfect adaptation to the situa-
tions they occupy : —

"Not a flower

But shows some touch, in freckle, streak, or stain,
Of His unrivall'd pencil. He inspires
Their balmy odors, and imparts their hues,
And bathes their eyes with nectar, and includes
In grains as countless as the sea-side sands,
The forms with which He sprinkles all the earth." —

COWPER.

MORAL OF FLOWERS. 69

Telling us to be grateful for these abundant
manifestations of His attention, not only to our
actual wants and necessities, but also to our
comforts and enjoyments ; opening to us this
source of pure and innocent gratification, in
order to strengthen us against the allurements
of foliy, and wean our hearts from the guilty
pleasures of sensuality, into which they are
but too apt to be drawn : —

" God might have bade the earth hring forth

Enough for great and small,
The oak-tree and the cedar-tree,

Without a flower at all.
He might have made enough, enough,

For every want of ours,
For luxury, medicine, and toil,

And yet have made no flowers.

Our outward life requires them not,

Then wherefore had they birth ? —
To minister delight to man,

To beautify the earth ;
To whisper hope — to comfort man

Whene'er his faith is dim,
For whoso careth for the flowers

Will care much more for him !" — MART HOWTTT.

60 MORAL OF FLOWERS.

Do they not also admonish us of the insta-
bility of earthly grandeur and beauty, by their
fragility and shortness of duration ? saying in
the language of the Psalmist : — As for man,
his days are as grass, as a flower of the field, so
he flourisheth ; for the wind passeth over it and
it is gone ; and the place thereof shall know it
no more." They teach us the utter foolishness
of that pride, which delighteth in personal
adornments and gaudy trappings ; for be our
dress ever so rich, the simplest flowers of the
field, that neither toil nor spin, are arrayed
much more sumptuously : —

"Along the sunny bank or watery mead,
Ten thousand stalks their various blossoms spread:
Peaceful and lowly, in their native soil,
They neither know to spin, nor care to toil,
Yet, with confessed magnificene, deride
Our vile attire and impotence of pride." — PRIOR.

It is thus they admonish the prosperous, the
proud, the uplifted in spirit ; but to the poor,
the lowly, and the fallen, they are as sympa-
thizing friends, whispering words of comfort
and hope, sharing their sorrows, and thus ren-

MORAL OF FLOWERS. Cl

dering the burden easier to bear. And by
making them participators in our grief, we lose
that painful sense of loneliness and desolation
which ever accompanies the blighting of our
earthly prospects, and consequent desertion of
friends, (falsely so called) ; our minds are in-
sensibly drawn to the contemplation of His
infinite goodness and mercy, who ordaineth all
things for the best, and sufFereth not a sparrow
to fall to the ground, nor a hair of our heads
to perish, unnoted.

We reflect on the many blessings He hath
vouchsafed us, all undeserving as we are, and
taught by the example of the Flowers, whose
tiny hands are ever clasped in adoration, whose
breath is ever exhaled as an offering of praise
to the footstool of their Maker, we become re-
signed, nay, even cheerful, and prompted by
feelings of gratitude, our thoughts involuntarily
shape themselves into words of a like significa-
tion to the following : —

" 0 flowers that breathe of beauty's reign,

In many a tint o'er lawn and lea,
And give the cold heart once again
A dream of happier infancy ;
0

62 MORAL OF FLOWERS.

And even on the grave can be
A spell to weed affection's pain —

Children of Eden, who could see,
Nor own His bounty in your reign !" —

AXXETTE TURXER.

Yes ! silent monitors though they be, they
are not voiceless, but gifted with an eloquence
divine that appeals alike to the heart and to the
understanding; and would we but hearken to
their preaching, our bosoms would become as
well-springs of mutual piety — peace and good
fellowship would prevail upon earth, and men
would be no more shedders of each other's
blood, and perpetrators of the blackest crimes ;
but, alas !

"Many in this dim world of cares,
Have sat with angels unawares." — T. K. HKRVEY.

And few, very few are they, who can behold
the bright countenances of heaven's messengers,
and listen to their discourse with an under-
standing spirit, for ambition and avarice, and
pride, have obscured our powers of vision, and
choked up the avenues to that treasure-house

MORAL OF FLOWERS. 63

wherein lie hid our finer sensibilities and aspi-
rations after the only intrinsic good : —

" The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending we lay waste our powers,
Little we see in nature that is ours ;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon !" —

WOUDSWOIITH.

But let us tear the film from before our eyes.
Let us endeavor to eradicate from our bosoms,
envy, hatred, and all evil passions. Let us
practise meekness and charity, and, as far as in
us lies, obey those holy impulses and .divine
incitements, which the Maker has implanted in
every human breast, and thus furnished us with
the means of working out our moral improve-
ment, if we do not ungratefully reject what is
intended for our benefit : —

" There is a lesson in each flower,
A story in each stream and bower;
In every herb on which you tread,
Are written words, which rightly read,
Will lead you from earth's fragrant sod,
To hope, and holiness, and God." — ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.

Let us then peruse those lessons ; let us

G4 MORAL OF FLOWERS.

'* read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest" those
" written words," so shall we profit thereby,
and lay up in our hearts treasures whose value
is far above that of silver and gold — more
precious than jewels from Golconda's mines ;
treasures which neither moth nor rust may
corrupt, nor thieves break in and steal.

" Flowers, the sole luxury that nature knew,

In Eden's pure and spotless garden grew,

Gay without toil, and lovely without art,

They spring to cheer the sense, and glad the human heart."

Hear this, Oh, man of many sorrows ! — thou
whose hopes are blighted, and on whose mind
grief sits, like an incubus, repressing all cheerful
thoughts, and sinking it deeper and deeper into
the gulph of despair ; — hear the words of one
who was like thyself, a child of misfortune —
" the melancholy COWLEY" — but who yet from
the midst of the gloom that surrounded him,
could see the beneficence of the Almighty in
his works, and draw consolation therefrom.
Oh, shake off thy despondency ! and go forth
rejoicing that — to use the words of BASIL HALL,

MORAL OF FLOWERS. 65

— " Nature has scattered around us on every
side, and for every sense, an inexhaustible pro-
fusion of beauty and sweetness, if we will but
perceive it;" for — to continue the same writer
— « The pleasures we derive from flowers, from
musical sounds, and the forms- of trees, are
surely not given us in vain, and if we are con-
stantly alive to these, we can never be in want
of subjects of agreeable contemplation, and must
be habitually cheerful." Yes most assuredly —

"God made the flowers to beautify
The earth, and cheer man's careful mood,
And he is happiest who hath power
To gather wisdom from a flower,
And wake his heart in every hour

To pleasant gratitude." — WORDSWORTH.

It is only in contemplations such as these,
that we can hope to obtain true happiness ; the
feverish joys of the world are short-Jived and
unsatisfactory ; like gilded dreams that haunt
the sick man's couch, making his waking hours
more painful from the contrast, they are ever
mingled with alloys ; it is a poisoned chalice
from which we drink the enchanted potion : —
6*

GG MORAL OF FLOWERS.

the roses that adorn the garland of pleasure are
not unaccompanied by thorns, which lacerate
the brows of the wearers, and leave thereon
indelible scars :-*

"Alas the joys that fortune brings
Are trifling, and decay." — GOLDSMITH.

Ambition ! what is it but a splendid vision ? —
a gorgeous structure built by him who rears
his house upon the sands, where the waves are
constantly sapping its foundation. Pride ! will
pride uphold the sinking heart in the hour of
affliction ? true, it will not bend, but it will break;
then woe to the poor wretch who depends on it
for support. Even as a stormy ocean whose
billows are ever swelling and foaming, ready to
engulph those who venture on its bosom.

" I heard a thousand blended notes,

AVhile in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts

Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
To her fair works did Nature link

The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think

What man has made of man.

MO KAL OF FLOWER 8. 67

Through primrose tufts, in that sweet bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;

And 'tit i/iy fuith that every jJoirer

Enj»y* the air it breathes." — WORDSWORTH.

Oh ! what a world of delightful thoughts and
sensations are opened to us by these exquisite
lines; how mighty are they to subdue every
stormy passion, and soften the asperities of our
nature; how humanizing is their influence upon
the mind ; again and again they recur to us, like a
sweet echo, until we are melted even to tears ;
— the rock is smitten, and gives forth its gushing
waters ; the arid desert " blossoms like the rose !"
We reflect on « what man has made of man,"
and resolve henceforward to use our utmost
endeavors to relieve the load of human misery,
for the creed which teaches that " every flower
enjoys the air it breathes," while drawing
neaier to those radiant peoplers of creation,
stirs, as it were by electricity, the golden links
of that sympathetic chain which binds us to our
fellow men, calling fopth all our kindliest
feelings, and prompting us to acts of love.
Yes! beautiful and radiant creatures! as ye

68 MORAL OF FLOWERS.

are the " visible tokens of the upholding Love !"
so are ye gifted with faculties and perceptions
to know and understand the errand of mercy
on which ye are sent, and to rejoice in being
made the instruments of divine bounty and
goodness. Ye participate in our joys and our
sorrows, weeping tears of balm to console us in
the time of adversity, and enhancing with your
smiles of innocent gaiety the pleasures of our
prosperous days ; but of ©ur crimes ye know
nothing ; in our schemes of aggrandizement or
projects for the accumulation of wealth, ye take
no part, for base passions and sordid desires are
incompatible with the purity of your natures : —

"To me ye seem

Like creatures of a dream —
Aerial phantoms of delight;
I can but deem ye much
Too pure for mortal touch,
Ye are so very fair, so passing bright" — H. G. A.

The friendships and affections ye entertain
one for another, though warm as the sunbeams
wherein ye delight to bask, are of an ethereal
character, and stainless as the dews by which

MORAL OF FLOWER 8.

ye are nourished and fed ; unlike those of us
mortals, too often degraded by animal impulses
and unworthy motives.

" Sweet nurslings of the vernal skies,

Bathed in soft airs and fed with dew,
What more than magic in you lies

To fill the heart's fond view !
Relics are ye of Eden's bowers,

As soft, as fragrant, and as fair,
As those that crown'd the sunshine hours

Of happy wanderers there !" — KEEBLE.

Beautiful are ye, exceedingly beautiful ! and
numberless are the strains of deep impassioned
eloquence, embodying " thoughts that breathe
and words that burn," to testify of the admira-
tion ye have excited in the breasts of those who
worship that power, —

"Which tunes the lip to songs and sighs,
And makes the heart a haunted shrine." — L. E. A.

Well have the poets sung of your loveliness
of your fragrance, and of your benign influence.
Grave divines have made sermons on you, and
expounded your holy teachings for the edifica-
tion of man, —

70 MORAL OF FLOWEBS.

"Floral apostles ! that in dewy splendor

Weep without woe, and blush without a crime,
Oh ! may I deeply learn, and ne'er surrender

Your lore sublime !" — HORACE SMITH.

Learned historians, and deep-thinking philo-
sophers, have turned them from the momentous
events of passed away times, and the labors of
scientific, research, to admire your beauties, and
speak of the moral ye convey. What says
FULLER, the sententious ? " A flower is the
best complexioned grass, as a pearl is the best
colored clay, and daily it weareth God's livery.
Solomon himself is outbraved therewith, as
whose gallantry only was adopted, and on him,
their's innate and in them. In the morning
(when it groweth up) it is a lesson of Divine
Providence ; in the evening (when it is cut
down, withered) it is a lesson of human mor-
tality." -After this, who shall affirm that ye are
useless ? What advocate of utility will start up
and deny the truth of the following lines ? —

"Yet spite of all this eager strife,
The ceaseless play, the genuine life,

I

MORAL OF FLOWERS. 71

That serves the steailfust hours,
Is in the grass beneath that grows
Unheeded, and the mute repose

Of sweetly breathing flowers." — WOEDSWORTH.

Will the cold-hearted cynic smile, and will
the sneering sceptic make a mockery of our
words when we repeat this touching lesson ? —

"God loveth all his creatures,

Doth bless them hour by hour;
Then will He not of man take heed,
"\Yho- so much beauty hath decreed

Unto the way-side flower?" — MARY Ho WITT.

Perchance they may do so, but, oh ! we shall
love ye none the less ; — none the less shall we
stiivc to express the feelings of gratitude, arid
associations of .pleasure, wherewith ye are so
intimately blended, exclaiming : —

" 0 ! if earth's ruined wilderness afford

So many flowers, breathing of love divine,
How gloriously that promised land must shine
That waits the followers of earth's mighty Lord!" —

MR*. RICHARDSOX.

Fair spirits are ye — ministering angels !
A writer, who has drunk deeply from the
well of inspiration, says : —

72 MORAL OF FLOWERS.

" And 'tis, and ever was my wish and way
To let all flowers live freely, and all die,
Whene'er their genius bids their souls depart,
Among their kindred, in their native place.
I never pluck the rose; the violet's head
Hath shaken with my breath upon its bank
And not reproached me ; the ever sacred cup
Of the pure lily hath between my hands
Pelt safe, unsoiled, nor lost one grain of gold." —

W. S. LANDOR.

What says JEAN PAUL RITCHER ? " There
are so many tender and holy emotions flying
about in our inward world, which, like angels, can
never assume the body of an outward act ; — so
many rich and lovely flowers spring up which
bear no seed — that it is a happiness poetry was
invented, which receives into its limbus all these
incorporeal spirits, and the perfume of all these
flowers." It has been our object in the fore-
going pages, and will be in those which follow,
to give shape and consistency to the many
beautiful and holy feelings, emotions and fancies,
which are drawn forth from the human heart
and brain, by the sight of flowers, to be hidden
amid the delicate petals, until summoned by the

L_

MORAL OJ FLOWERS.

call of poesy, to issue from their hiding places,
and irradiate the world of nature and imagina-
tion with their divine effluence. Well has it
been asked — by whom we know not — " How
can the poet better employ his genius, than in
giving flowers a life as sweet, more lasting than
their own !" and how, we would respond, can
the moralist more faithfully perform the duties
of his office, than by drawing lessons of wisdom
and virtue from the most lovely objects in
creation, and applying those lessons to the
hearts and consciences of his fellow-creatures,
endeavoring thus to make them happier and
wiser ? —

" TVHU holy awe I cull the opening flower,
Thejhand of God hath made it, and where'er
The'flow'ret blooms, there God is present also."

These are the words of LADY FLORA HAS-
TINGS, and in them we recognize a spirit akin
to our own ; it is good to bear about with us
ever a deep sense of the presence of the Creator
in His works, from the mightiest to the meanest,
and to be moved to devotion and praise, not only

74 MORAL OF FLOWERS.

by that which is grand and sublime, but also by
the common and lowly.

" 0 put away thy pride,

Or be ashamed of power,
That cannot turn aside

The breeze that waves a flower." — J. CLARE.

Yes! " Flowers are holy things" and meet
objects of our reverence as well as admiration ;
they claim from us both love and homage, the
former for their ineffable beauty and sweetness,
and the latter for inasmuch as that they are
manifestations of the divine power, skill, and
goodness of Him, who hath scattered them so
plentifully over the face of the earth.

MORAL OF FLOWERS.

THE FLOWER OF THE DESERT.

BY MRS. HEMAJJS.

"Who doae not recollect the exultation of Vaillant
over a flower in the torrid wastes of Africa ? The affecting
mention of the influence of a flower upon the mind, by
Mungo Park, in a time of suffering and despondency, in
the heart of the same savage country, is familiar to every
one."

HOWITT'S BOOK OF THE SEASONS.

WHY art thou thus in thy beauty cast,

O lonely, loneliest flower;
Where the sound of song hath never pass'd

From human hearth or bower?

I pity thee, for thy heart of love,

For that glowing heart, that fain
Would breathe out joy with each wind to rove —

In vain, lost thing ! in vain !

7G MORAL OF FLOWERS.

I pity thee, for thy wasted bloom,

For thy glory's fleeting hour,
For the desert place, thy living tomb —

O lonely, loneliest flower !

I said — but a low voice made reply,

" Lament not for the flower !
Though its blossoms all unmark'd must die,

They have had a glorious dower.

tr

" Though it bLooms afar from the minstrel's way
And the paths where lovers tread ;

Yet strength and hope, like an inborn day,
By its odors have been shed.

II Yes ! dews more sweet than ever fell
O'er island of the blest,

Were shaken forth, from its purple bell,
On a suffering human breast.

<« A wanderer came, as a stricken deer,

O'er the waste of burning sand,
He bore the wound of an Arab spear,

He fled from a ruthless band.

MORAL OF FLOWERS.

(t And dreams of home in a troubled tide

Swept o'er his darkening eye,
And he lay down by the fountain side,

In his mute despair to die.

tf But his glance was caught by the desert's flower,

The precious boon of Heaven ;
And sudden hope, like a vernal shower,

To his. fainting heart was given.

tl For the bright flower spoke of one above ;

Of the presence felt to brood
With a spirit of pervading love,

O'er the wildest solitude.

« Oh ! the seed was thrown those wastes among

In a bless'd and gracious hour,
For the lorn one rose in heart made strong,

By the lonely, loneliest flower !"

7*

78 SIORALOFFLOWEKS.

THE FLOWER OF FENESTRELLA.

CHARLES VERAJIONT, Count de Charney, is young and
possessed of boundless wealth. lie outlives every enjoy-
ment ; and, literally through exhaustion of feeling, plunges
into a conspiracy against Napoleon, and is imprisoned for
life in ihe small fortress of Fenestrella. Solitude nearly
drives him mad; he curses fate, life, the world — and he
denies God. Suddenly a small plant springs up between
two stones of the pavement; and to this plant he gives the
endearing name of Picciola. He actually forms a friend-
ship for it ; and at length loves it with all the force of
which that tender passion is susceptible. He by degrees
learns the value of life; is awakened to the beauty of the
world, and learns to acknowledge and worship God with
sincere and fervent piety. — See Mrs. Gore's " PICCIOLA."

Dull vapors fill the joyless air,

And cold the sunbeam falls
Within the court-yard, paved and bare,

'Neath Fenestrella's walls.

MORAL OF FLOWEKS. * 79

While winters upon winters roll,

There hath a captive trod ;
His was that madness of the soul

Which knows not of a God.

One morn between the clefts of stone

Two leaflets burst to view ;
And day by day, and one by one,

The fragile branches grew.

It grew — nor canker knew — nor blight,
'Neath sun, and storm, and shower ;

A blessing to the captive's sight
It grew — a dungeon flower !

Oh, beautiful and gentle thing !

Meek offspring of the sky !
Comest thou, like a breath of spring,

To whisper and to die !

The captive marked its growth, and felt

His soul subdued to tears :
That tender thing had power to melt

The gathered frosts of years

MORAL 0» FLOWERS.

He who had blindly trod the maze

Of learning and of power,
Stood watching with awakened gaze

The opening of a flower !

He traced the powers of sun and dew —
The light — the breath that fanned ;

And owned at length, to nature true,
His great Creator's hand.

Great God ! with pure and wise design, •

Still, still 'mid all we see,
Thou blendest thus some mystic sign —

Some voice which breathes of Thee !

WARD'S MISCELLANY

THE USE OF FLOWERS.

BY MART HOWITT.

GOD might have bade the earth bring forth

Enough for great and small,
The oak-tree, and the cedar-tree,

Without a flower at all.

MOKAL OF FLOWERS. 81

He might have made enough, enough,

For every want of ours,
For luxury, medicine, and toil,

And yet have made no flowers.

The ore within the mountain-mine

Requireth none to grow,
Nor doth it need the lotus-flower

To make the river flow.

The clouds might give abundant rain,

The nightly dews might fall,
And the herb that keepeth life in man,

Might yet have drank them all.

Then wherefore, wherefore were they made,

All dyed with rainbow light,
All fashioned with supremest grace,

Upspringing day and night ; —

Springing in valleys green and low,

And on the mountains high,
And in the silent wilderness,

Where no man passeth by ?

82 MORAL OF FLOWERS.

Our outward life requires them not,
Then wherefore had they birth ? —

To minister delight to man,
To beautify the earth ;

To whisper hope — to comfort man
Whene'er his faith is dim ;

For whoso careth for tne flowers
Will care much more for him !

TO A FLOWER.

BY BARRY CORNWALL.

DAWN, gentle flower,
From the morning earth !

We will gaze and wonder
At thy wondrous birth !

Bloom, gentle flower !

Lover of the light,
Sought by wind and shower,

Fondled by the night !

MOKAL OF FLOWEK8

Fade, gentle flower !

All thy white leaves close ;
Having shown thy beauty,

Time 'tis for repose.

Die, gentle flower,

In the silent sun !
Sob — all pangs are over,

All thy tasks are done !

Day hath no more glory,
Though he soars on high

Thine is all man's story,
Live — and love — and die !

83

A SONG OP THE ROSE.

BY MRS. HEMANS.

ROSE ! what dost thou here ?

Bridal, royal rose ?
How, 'midst grief and fear,
Canst thou thus disclose

That fervid hue of love which to thy heart-leaf
glows ?

Rose ! too much array'd
For triumphal hours,
Look'st thou through the snade

Of these mortal bowers,

Not to disturb my soul, thou crown'd one of all
flowers !

As an eagle soaring

Through a sunny sky,
As a clarion pouring

Notes of victory,
So dost thou kindle thoughts, for earthly life too

high—
84

J

80 NO OF THE BOS E. 85

Thoughts of rapture, flushing

Youthful poet's cheek,
Thoughts of glory rushing
Forth in song to break,
But finding the spring-tide of rapid song too

weak.
Yet, oh ! festal rose,

I have seen thee lying
In thy bright repose

Pillow'd with the dying,

Thy crimson by the life's quick blood was
flying.

Summer, hope, and love '

O'er that bed of pain,
Meet in thee, yet wove
Too, too frail a claim

In its embracing links the lovely to detain.
Smilest thou, gorgeous flower ?—

O ! within the spells
Of thy beauty's power
Something dimly dwells,
At variance with a world of sorrows and fare-
wells.

8

86 SONGOPTHEKOSE.

Ail the soul forth flowing

In that rich perfume,
All the proud life glowing

In that radiant bloom,
Have they no place but here, beneath the o'er-

shadowing tomb ?
Crown'st thou but the daughters

Of our tearful race ? —
Heaven's own purest waters
Well might bear the trace
Of thy consummate form, melting to softer grace.
Will that clime enfold thec

With immortal air
Shall we not behold thee

Bright and deathless there ?
In spirit-lustre clothed, transcendently more

fair ?
Yes ! my fancy sees thee

In that light disclose,
And its dream thus frees thee

From the mist of woes,

Darkening thine earthly bowers, O bridal, royal
rose.

CHILDREN AND FLOWERS.

CHILDHOOD is especially the season of flowers,
and hence the poets have very appropriately
compared that early period of our existence to
the spring-time of the year, when, —

"There's perfume upon every wind,

Music in every tree —
Dews for the moisture-loving flowers —

Sweets for the sucking bee ;
The sick come forth for the healing breeze,

The young are gathering flowers,
And life is a tale of poetry,

That is told by golden hours." — N. P. WILLIS.

It is then that flowers are to us a source of
exquisite soul-thrilling delight ; we revel amid
them as careless and free-hearted as their own
worshipper, the butterfly ; inhaling their fra-
grance, and gazing on their beautiful tints with

87

CHILDREN AND FLOWERS.

a pleasure for which we know not how to
account ; it is an admiration implanted in us
by the Great Maker for the most lovely of His
creations : —

" Go, mark the matchless workings of the power,
That shuts within the seed the future flower;
Bids these in elegance of form excel —
In colour these, and those delight the smell ;
Sends nature forth, the daughter of the skies,
To dance on earth, and charm all human eyes."

COWPKR.

Let the infant, peevish and fretful from suffering
under one of the many disorders to which infancy
is peculiarly liable, be shown a flower, and how
quickly will the tears be changed to smiles ; how
eagerly will he endeavour to obtain it, clapping
his little chubby hands, and crowing again with
excess of glee ; and when in possession of the
prize so much coveted, how will he strive, by
chuckling laughter, and broken lispings, to ex-
press his admiration, turning it round and round,
and viewing it on all sides, his eyes sparkling
the while, like the bubbles on a sun-lit foun-
tain : —

CHILDREN AND FLOWEBS. 89

" Tis now the poetry of life to thee !
With fancies fresh and innocent as flowers,
And manners sportive as the free-wing'd air;
Thou seest a friend in every smile ; thy days
Like singing birds, in gladness speed along,
And not a tear that trembles on thy lids,
But shines away, and sparkles into joy."

ROBERT MONTGOMERY.

Even the universal desire, manifested by chil-
dren to pull flowers to pieces, we are inclined
to think, arises from an impression that by so
doing, they will be enabled to discover the source
of such delightful sensation|*and take their fill
at once, as the boy in the fable is said to have
destroyed the bird which laid golden eggs,
in order to enrich himself with the precious
store he supposed it to contain ; and this im-
pression is further confirmed by watching the
earnestness with which they proceed in the
work of destruction, carefully examining every
petal until the whole are plucked off, and the
disappointment with which they turn from the
scattered fragments : — What an emblem, are
those shattered flowers, of the objects of our
desires in riper years ; how eagerly do we
8*

90 CHILDEEN AND FLOWERS.

grasp them, and what disappointment ensues
to find them wither in our hands, without
yielding the happiness we unreasonably ex-
pected from them ; — and why ? not because
they are incapable of so doing, but that we, like
foolish children, wishing to obtain a surfeit of
sweets, enjoyed them not temperately. We
are even, as the poet says, —

" Like babes, that pluck an early bud apart
To know the dainty colour of its heart."

% THOMAS HOOD.

Man ! Man ! thou art ever repining and discon-
tented ; but didst thou not abuse the good gifts
showered around thee by a gracious Providence,
how happy might'st thou be in this beautiful
world, exclaiming, —

" These are thy wonders, Lord of Love !

To make us see we are but flowers that glide,
Which when we once can find and prove,
Thou hast a garden for us where to bide ;
Who would be more,
Swelling through store,
Forfeit their paradise by their pride."

GEORGE HERBERT.

CHILDREN AND FLOWERS. 91

But to return to the season of youth — to the
spring-time of life — when flowers are scattered
about our path, thickly as stars in the firma-
ment of night, and we sport like lambs in the
verdant meads, heedless of what the future may
bring : — " Fearless, beautiful boyhood ! beloved
of nature, who, like a kind school-mistress, sits
upon the hills, and claps her hands in joy at
his pastime, giving him the earth and all its
landscapes at once, for his school and play-
ground— and then the rocks and woods re-echo
his mirth ; and then in thoughtful silence wan-
dering away, the quiet nooks enclose him with
their greenness, making companions of every-
thing animate and inanimate — endowed with
beauty ; searching with a worshipping curiosity
into every leaf and flower about his path, while
the boughs bend to him and touch him with
their sunshine ; picking up lessons of present
delight and future wisdom, by rivers' sides, by
brooks, in the glens, and in the fields; inhaling,
in every breath he draws, intelligence and
health." — Thus, says CHRISTOPHER NORTH, that
" grey-haired man of glee" — whose writings

92 CHILDREN AND FLOWERS.

breathe all the freshness and sparkling vivacity
of early youth — are redolent of sunshine, and
fragrance, and vernal melody. Long may he
live to delight the readers of MAGA with the
outpourings of his joyous spirit, transporting them
in fancy to the wild solitudes of his native hills;
where the cares and vexations of the busy
world are all forgotten, and the heart holdeth
commune with the Great Invisible, purified
from aught that is gross and unworthy by the
blessed influence of natural piety, which teacheth
man to know himself for what he is, — a worm
crawling upon the face of the earth, — a grain of
dust liable to be swept away by the slightest
breath ; yet, withal, gifted and endowed with
powers and faculties, which if rightly employed,
will place him but " a little lower than the
angels ;" where

"The inner spirit keepeth holiday
Like vernal ground to Sabbath sunshine left"

WORDSWORTH.

And we, reflecting on the wondrous attributes
wherewith the beneficent Creator hath invested

CHILDREN AND FLOWERS. 93

frail mortality, exclaim, with the Prince of Den-
mark,— " What a piece of work is man ! How
noble in reason ! How infinite in faculties !
in form and moving, how express and admirable !
in action, how like an angel ! in apprehension,
how like a god ! the beauty of the world ! the
paragon of animals !"

But we are wandering from the path of our
subject, and must crave the reader's indulgence
while we retrace our steps, premising however,
that it will not be the last time, by many, that
we shall have occasion to do the like, being as
one who walketh in a pleasant garden, where
each fresh object holds out a greater temptation
than the last, to make us pause and examine its
beauties, until we become fairly confused by
admiration, and dazzled with excess of light.

"A mother kind walks forth in the even,
She, with her little son, for pleasure given
To tread the fringed banks of an amorous flood,
That with its music courts a sylvan wood;
There ever talking to her only bliss,
That now before, and now behind her is,
She stoops for flowers, the choicest may be had,
And bringing them to please her little lad,

94 CHILDREN AND FLOWEE9.

Spies in his hand some baneful flower or weed,
Whereon he 'gins to smell, perchance to feed,
With a more earnest haste she runs to him
And pulls them from him." — WILLIAM BKOWXE.

Who can look upon the ahove picture,
limned by the hand of one of Britain's sweetest
pastoral poets, without having the tenderest re-
collections awakened within him, of a parent,
now perchance sleeping in the cold church-yard,
or if not so, divided from him by a wide gulph
of worldly cares and interests, no longer exer-
cising a judicious control over his actions ; no
longer with a firm yet gentle hand, pulling from
him the baneful weeds of folly, and flowers,—
beautiful in appearance, and endued with fra-
grancy, but fraught with a subtle poison, —
which pleasure scatters over the pathway of
man, luring him to tarry in her voluptuous
bowers, and steep his soul in sensual delights,
whereafter come repentance and vain self-re-
proach, for precious time thus idly squandered,
and opportunities irrevocably lost.

CHILDREN AND FLOWERS. 9<J

" Oh, lovely flowers ! the earth's rich diadem,
Bright resurrection from her sable tomb,

Ye are the eyes of Nature ! her best gem —
With you she tints her face with living bloom,
And breathes delight in gales of rich perfume :

Emblems are ye of heaven, and heavenly joy,
And starry brilliance in a world of gloom,

Peace, innocence, and guileless infancy,

Claim sisterhood with you, and holy is the tie." — Q.

Aye ! in sooth, " holy is the tie !" Is there
one of our readers who will not subscribe to
the truth of this sentiment ? Is there aught so
pure, so perfectly blameless in its nature, as the
love we cherish in early years for all things fair
and gentle, but more especially for flowers;
may they find a place in our bosoms, when we
become traffickers in the busy mart, and actors
in the great drama of existence ? Whence arises
the pleasure that we ever experience at the
sight of a- flower, but from an association of
ideas ? Does not the jaded mind immediately
return to drink from the untainted waters of
that fount of feeling, the stream of which, since
it left the emerald meads of childhood, has
become turgid to the eye, and bitter to the taste ?

06 CHILDREN AND FLOWERS.

Well may MADAME DE GENLIS, recurring to
the scenes of her early life, write thus : — " Oh,
how much sweeter is it to recall to my mind
the walks and sports of my happy childhood,
than the pomp and splendour of the palaces
I have since inhabited ! All the courts, once so
brilliant, are now faded. All the projects which
were then built with §o much confidence, are
become chimeras. The impenetrable future has
cheated alike the security of princes, and the
ambition of courtiers. Versailles is dropping
into ruins ; the delicious gardens of Chantilly,
of Villers-Coterets, of Sceaux, of Isle-Adam,
are destroyed. I should now look in vain for
the vestiges of that frail grandeur which I once
admired there ; but I should find the banks of
the Loire as smiling as ever, the meadows of
St. Aubin as full of violets and lilies of the val-
ley, and its woods loftier and fairer. There
are no vicissitudes for the eternal beauties of
nature ; and while, amidst blood-stained revolu-
tions, palaces, marble columns, statues of bronze,
and even cities themselves disappear, the simple

CHILDREN AND FLOWERS. 97

flowers of the field, regardless of the storm, grow
into beauty, and multiply for ever." Yes !

" The wilding rose, sweet as thyself,

And new-cropp'd daisies are thy treasure ;
I'd gladly part with worldly pelf,

To taste again thy youthful pleasure."

JOAXXA BAILLIE.

Says the first of Scotland's poetesses, addressing
a child ; and the Northamptonshire peasant, in
his own peculiar sweet, though mournful strains,
thus sings of early delights : —

" Those joys which childhood calls it own,

Would they were kin to men !
Those treasures to the world unknown,

When known, are withered then !
But hovering round her growing year?,

To gild Care's sable shroud,
Their spirit through the gloom appears,

As sun behind a cloud." — JOHN CLARE.

This is but one of the many instances in which
he recurs to the flowery pleasures of childhood,
and he is but one of the many thousands who
have recorded in golden numbers their joyful
recollections of that delightful period of exist-
ence, when —

9

CHILDREN AND FLOWERS.

" We tread on flowers, flowers meet our every glance,
It is the scene, the season of romance,

The very bridal of the earth and sky."

JOSIAH COXDOR.

MRS. HEMANS, in one of her letters to a friend,
says : " I really think that fine passion for
flowers is the only one which long sickness
leaves untouched with its chilling influence.
Often during this weary illness of mine, have I
looked upon new books with perfect apathy,
when if a friend has sent me a few flowers, my
heart has leaped up to their dreamy hues and
odours, with a sudden sense of renovated child-
hood, which seems to me one of the mysteries
of our being." How many instances might be
quoted to show the prevalence of this mysterious
feeling. How often, when the frame has become
worn out by disease, and while the sufferer was
calmly awaiting the approach of death ; — when
all the joys, sorrows, hopes, and fears of mor-
tality have faded away, even as a dream, from
the memory, — the scenes and circumstances of
childhood, — forgotten amid the turmoil of stormy
passions and painful anxieties, — have arisen

L.

CHILDREN AND FLOWEBS.

before him in all their pristine freshness and
beauty. The soul, as it approaches more nearly
to its Creator, becomes purified ; the fogs and
mists of prejudice and folly are swept away,
and it is enabled more clearly to distinguish,
and better to appreciate the value of that state
of innocence, which is an antetype of the angelic.
It longs to be once more as a little child, having
now come to a right understanding of our
Saviour's words, — " Suffer little children to
come unto me, and forbid them not ; for of
such is the kingdom of Heaven."

"Oh, world of sweet phantoms, how pleasant thou art!
The past is perpetual youth to the heart." — L. E. L.

Sang one who perished, like a just expanded
rose on which the blight has suddenly fallen ;
and KEATS, the pure, the gentle-hearted, he, —

" Who grew

Like a pale flower by some sad maiden cherished,
And fed with true-love tears, instead of dew." — SHELLEY.

Was it not this feeling which prompted him,
on the bed of dissolution, to exclaim, that " he
felt the daisies growing over him ?"

100 CHILDREN AND FLOWEKS.

Another poet, who passed a weary and a
toilsome life, —

" Chained to the desk, the world's o'er-laboured slave/'

Thus recurs to the sweet morn of existence ; —

" How beautiful

The vernal hour of life. Then pleasure wings
M'ith lightning speed the moments, and the sun
Burns brightly, and nor cloud nor storm appears
To darken the horizon. Hope looks out
Into the dazzling sheen, and fondly talks
Of summer, and Love comes, and all the air
Rings with wild harmonies." — CARRINGTOW.

Alas ! that he should have found occasion to
draw the veil of disappointment and regret over
this bright picture.

"If people would-be wise enough through
life to derive enjoyment from such innocent
pleasures as delighted them in childhood, we
should find far fewer sour tempers, cold hearts,
and narrow minds in the world. All, except
positive idiots, are endowed by God with a por-
tion of that beautiful poetry of existence, which
in childhood is so conspicuously evident, teach-

CHILDREN AND FLOWEES. 101

ing even the infant in the nurse's arms to snatch
at flowers and laugh in the sunshine !" These
are the words of Miss TWAMLEV, one, whose
name we cannot mention, but straightway there
rise before us visions of floral loveliness, filled with
all fair shapes and rainbow hues ; we breathe an
atmosphere of perfume, and our sense of hearing
becomes so acute, that we can even distinguish,
amid the grand symphony of nature, the pecu-
liar chime of the harebells, which this lady
likens to fairy music, — a symphonious peal,
rung out just as twilight steals over the land-
scape, to summon the tiny folk to their revels,
when they

Knit hands, and beat the ground

In alight fantastic round."

But why, « oh, lady fair!" say " all, except
positive idiots?" Have these no share, think
ye, in " the poetry of existence ?" Do they
not love to inhale the perfume, and gaze on the
forms and hues of flowers ? Do they not listen
with delight to the singing of birds, the gurg-
ling of running streams, and the waving of leafy
9*

r

102 CHILDREN AND FLOWERS.

trees ? For our part, we think that the life of
an idiot, is one of perpetual childhood ; that he
is gifted with a double portion of simple and
innocent enjoyments, to compensate for the loss
of those which result from a right employment
of man's intellectual and moral powers : Oh,
tell us not that the idiot is deprived of a share
in the " poetry of existence !" Is he not the
companion of the bird, and the bee, and the
butterfly ? Does he not lie about in the green
meads, basking in the sunshine ? Does he not
plait rushes by the streamlet's brim, and talk to
his own image reflected on its glassy surface ?
Does he not hide him in flo\\ery nooks and
dingles, laughing like a very incarnation of
gladness, and murmuring snatches of sweet old
ballads ? Even in his melancholy moods, —
save during those periods when he is possessed
by fears, the more terrible from their vague-
ness— and they are not generally of long dura-
tion,— his state seems to be that of passive en-
joyment.

And who shall say that he is unhappy ?
The tears he shed flow not from disappointment

CHILDREN ANL» FLOWERS. 103

or regret. He has no fears for the future, no
ambitious longings, no unruly desires, that never
can be gratified, to vex him ! So his physical
wants be attended to, what cares he how the
world wags ; how thrones and empires totter ;
how misery and vice progress ; how disease
and death afflict nations and individuals. Does
he wish to become a king ? straightway his
" cone-like head" bears a regal diadem, his tat-
tered habiliments are changed to purple robes,
blazing with jewelry, and the bough he (t twirls"
is the sceptre, which symbolizes his command
over half the globe. Does he wish ? — but it
were useless to pursue this subject further ? — he
is a poet, a philosopher, — aught which may
suit the whim of the moment, yet free from the
harassing cares, griefs, and anxieties, which but
too often render miserable the lives of those who
play such conspicuous parts in the great drama
of mortality. CRABBE, who was a most faithful
delineator of human life in all its phases, and
under all circumstances, speaking of the inmates
of the village poor-house, says —

104 CHILDREN ASD FLOWERS.

"The blind, the lame, and_/ar the happiest they !
The moping idiot, and the madman gay."

Even amid our tears of pity for poor Ophelia,
we cannot help feeling in some degree rejoiced,
that her mind has become a blank, bearing no
record of her former woes and sufferings, so
that she can now find pleasure and amusement
in twining garlands and carolling songs, as in
the days of her childhood. As well might it be
said because the tunes of the ^Eolian harp are
wild and wandering, that it gives out no melody
to the touch of the soft breezes, as that the mind
of an idiot, which is moved by sudden impulses
and gusts of passion, responds not to those holy
influences, which the God of nature has scat-
tered through the material universe, and which
constitute " the poetry of existence."

There are those, who tell us, that youth is
not the most happy period of existence ; — that
the sorrows of childhood, though light in com-
parison with those we experience in after years,
are as weighty in proportion to the powers of
endurance that we then possess. They say : —

"'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view."

CHILDEEN AND FLOWEK9. 105

And our only reason for recurring with such a
tenderness to the scenes and pleasures of by-
gone limes, is that we are ever dissatisfied with
our present lot, and inclined to murmur at the
decrees of Providence. But, oh, this is a vain
philosophy ! Reason may preach and moralize
after this fashion, but Feeling denies the
truth of the inference drawn. The very cir-
cumstance of our forgetfulness with regard to
the griefs and troubles of childhood, proves their
trifling and easily eflaceable nature. Is it so
with the cares and anxieties of maturity ?
Where is the favoured mortal who, if his bosom
were laid bare, would not exhibit traces of
wounds, many freshly bleeding, and scars too
deep ever to be effaced ? " The many ills to
which the flesh is heir," when do they come
most thickly upon us ? not in the early days !
not in the spring of life ! but in the summer,
and the autumn, and the winter ; 'tis then the
desolating tempest sweeps over the landscape,
and we behold the buds of hope, and the full-
blown flowers of joy, alike withered, scattered,
and destroyed. This, it may be said, is a

106 CHILDREN AND FLOWERS.

melancholy picture of human life ; " 'tis true,
'tis pity, pity 'tis, 'tis true," in the generality
of cases, and where there is one, whose heart is
unscathed by the burning finger of affliction,
there are thousands who might exclaim, with
LADY RANDOLPH : — ,

" Have you not sometimes seen an early flower
Open its bud, and spread its silken leaves,
To catch sweet airs, and odours to bestow ;
Then by a keen blast nipt, pull in its leaves,
And though still living, die to scent and beauty ?
Emblem of me ; Affliction, like a storm,
Hath killed the forward blossoms of the heart."

HOME'S DOUGLAS.

Let it not be supposed by this, that we are
unaware of the truth of the scripture proverb,
which saith, " whom the Lord loveth he
chasteneth," or that we would advocate the
indulgence of a morbid feeling of regret for
past-away pleasures. We humbly acknow-
ledge the wisdom and justice of the Supreme
Disposer of events, and firmly believe that
adversity, —

" Though like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Bears yet a precious jewel in his head." — SHAKSPEARE.

CHILDREN AND FLOWERS. 107

But even while acknowledging this, our thoughts
will revert regretfully to the sweet memories of
early days, and we cannot help saying to the
child :—

"Linger yet upon the hour,
Of the green leaf and the flower;
Art thou happy ? For thy sake
Do the birds their music make —
Birds with golden plumes, that bring
Sunshine from a distant spring,
For thine eyes the roses grow
Red as sunset, white as snow,
And the bees are gathering gold
Ere the winter hours come cold.
Flowers are colouring the wild-wood,
Art thou weary of thy childhood ?
Break not its enchanted reign, —
Such, life never knotc* again." — L. K. L.

THE PICTURE OF T. C. IN A PROSPECT OF
FLOWERS.

BY ANDREW MARVELL.

See with what sweet simplicity
The nymph begins her golden days !
In the green grass she loves to lie,
And there, with her fair aspect, tames
The wilder flowers, and gives them names :
But only with the roses plays,

And them does tell

What colour best becomes them, and what smell.
*****

Meantime whilst every verdant thing
Itself does at thy beauty charm

Reform the errors of the spring ;
Make that the tulips may have share
Of sweetness, seeing they are fair ;

And roses of their thorns disarm :
But most procure

That violets may a longer age endure.
108

..J

A PROSPECT OT FLOWERS. lO'.l

But, O young beauty of the woods,
Whom Nature courts with fruits and flowers,

Gather the flowers but spare the buds ;
Lest Flora, angry at that crime,
To kill the infants in their prime,

Should quickly make the example yours,

And e'er we see
Nip, in the blossom, all our hopes in thee.

THE HYACINTH.

BY CASIM1R.

CHILD of the Spring, thou charming flower.

No longer in confinement lie,
Arise to light, thy form discover,

Rival the azure of the sky.
The rains are gone, the storms are o'er,

Winter retires to make thee way ;
Come, then, thou sweetly blooming flower,

Come, lovely stranger, come away.
The sun is dressed in beaming smiles,

To give thy beauties to the day :
Young zephyrs wait with gentlest gales,

To fan thy bosom as they play.
10

A BIRTH-DAY BALLAD.

BY MISS JEWSBURT.

Thou art plucking spring roses, Genie,

And a little red rose art thou,
Thou hast unfolded to-day, Genie,

Another bright leaf, I trow ;
But the roses will live and die, Genie

Many and many a time,
Ere thou riast unfolded quite, Genie —

Grown into maiden prime.

Thou art looking now at the birds, Genie,
But, oh ! do not wish their wing !

That would only tempt the fowler, Genie,
Stay thou on earth and sing ;

Stay in the nursing nest, Genie,
Be not soon thence beguiled,

Thou wilt ne'er find a second, Genie,

Never be twice a child.
110

A BIRTII-DAY BALLAD. Ill

Thou art building towers of pebbles, Genie,

Pile them up brave and high,
And leave them to follow a bee, Genie,

As he wandereth singing by ;
But if thy towers fall down, Genie,

And if the brown bee is lost,
Never weep, for thou must learn, Genie,

How soon life's schemes are crost.

Thy hand is in a bright boy's, Genie,

And he calls thee his sweet wee wife,
But Jet not thy little heart think, Genie,

Childhood the prophet of life ;
It may be life's minstrel, Genie,

And sing sweet songs and clear,
But minstrel and prophet now, Genie,

Are not united here.

What will thy future fate be, Genie,

Alas ! shall I live to see !
For thou art scarcely a sapling, Genie,

And I am a moss-grown tree !

112 A BIRTH -DAY BALLAD.

I am shedding life's leaves fast, Genie,
Thou art in blossom sweet ;

But think of the grave betimes, Genie,
Where young and old oft meet.

THE FURZE.

MID scatter'd foliage, pale and sere,
Thy kind flowret cheers the gloom ;

And offers to the waning year
The tribute of its golden bloom.

Beneath November's clouded sky,
In chill December's stormy hours,

Thy blossom meets the traveller's eye,
Gay as the buds of summer bowers.

Flower of the dark and wintry day !

Emblem of friendship ! thee I hail !
Blooming when others fade away,

And brightest when their hues grow pale.

FLORAL CEREMONIES.

" Bring, FLORA, bring thy treasures here,
The pride of all the blooming year,
Aad let me thence a garland frame." — SHEXSTOSE.

" THE worship of FLORA," says MR. PHIL-
LIPS, " among the heathen nations, may be
traced up to very early days. She was the
object of religious veneration among the Pho-
ciansand the Sabines, long before the foundation
of Rome ; and the early Greeks worshipped her
under the name of Chloris. The Romans in-
stituted a festival in honor of flora as early as
the time of Romulus, as a kind of rejoicing at
the appearance of the blossoms, which they
welcomed as the harbingers of fruits. The
festival games of Floralla, were not however,
regularly instituted until five hundred and six-
teen years after the foundation of Rome, when
on consulting the celebrated books of the Sybil,
10* 113

114 KLCKAL CEREMONIES.

it \vas ordained that the feast should be annually
kept on the 28th day of April, that is four days
before the calends of May." — Bounteous
May !_

" Woods and groves are of thy dressing,
Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing,"

As Milton sings, but \ve shall have much to
say of our modern (l Feast of Flowers," which,
doubtless, had its origin in that above spoken
of, and which was introduced by the Roman
conquerors into Britain.

" 0 ! fairest of the fabled forms ! that stream,
Dressed by wild Fancy, through the poet's dream,
Still may tby attributes of leaves and flower?,
Thy gardens rich, and shrub-o'ershadowed bowers,
And yellow meads, with spring's first honors bright,
The child's gay heart and frolic step invite ;
And while the careless wanderer explores
The umbrageous forest or the rugged shores,
Climbs the green down or roams the brooin-clad waste,
May Truth and Nature form his future taste !
Goddess ! on youth's blest hours thy gifts bestow ;
Bind the fair wreath on virgin Beauty's brow,
And still may Fancy's brightest flowers be wove
Round the gold chains of hymeneal love."

CHARLOTTE SMITH.

FLORAL CEREMOMiSS. 115

It is thus that an English poetess apostrophizes
the Goddess Flora, who, according to classical
authority, was " married to ZepkyrtU, and re-
ceived from him the privilege of presiding over
flowers and enjoying perpetual youth." She
was represented by Ovid and others as crowned
with flowers, and holding in her hand the horn
of plenty ; perhaps we can find her portrait
among our collection of poetic beauties. Ah !
here it is ! —

" The vision comes ! — while slowly melt away
Night's hovering shades before the eastern ray,
Ere yet declines the morning's humid star,
Fair Fancy brings her ; in her leafy car
Flora descends to dress the expecting earth,
Awake the germs, and call the buds to birth ;
Bids each hybernacle its cell unfold,
And open silken leaves and eyes of gold.
Of forest foliage, of the firmest shade,
Enwove by magic hands, the car was made :
Oak and the maple plane without entwined,
And beech and ash the verdant concave lined
The saxifrage, that snowy flowers emboss,
Supplied the seat ; and of the mural moss
The velvet footstool rose, where lightly rest
Her slender feet in cyprepedium dressed.

116 FLORAL CEREMONIES.

The tufted rush that bears a silken crown,

The floating feathers of the thistle's down,

In tender hues of rainbow lustre dyed,

The airy texture of her robe supplied;

And wild convolvnli, yet half unblown,

Formed, with their wreathing buds, her simple zone ;

Some wandering tresses of her radiant hair

Luxuriant floated on the enamored air;

The rest were by the scandix points confined,

And graced, a shining knot, her head behind —

While, as a sceptre of supreme command,

She waved the enthoxanthum in her hand."

CHARLOTTE SMITH.

We wish that our space permitted us to quote
the description of the attendants of the beautiful
Goddess of Flowers from the same poem, and
the exquisite forms of perfumed loveliness
which the earth and the waters put forth to
welcome her approach, but the poet of Lusitania
is waiting to tell us how, —

" Zephyr and Flora emulous conspire

To breathe their graces o'er the field's attire ;
The one gives healthful freshness, one the hue,
Fairer than e'er creative pencil drew.
Pale as the lovesick hopeless maid they dye
The modest violet; from the curious eye
The modest violet turns her gentle head,
And by the thorn weeps o'er her lowly bed;

FLORAL CEREMONIES. 117

Bending beneath the tears of pearly dawn,
The snow-white lily glitters o'er the lawn ;
Lo ! from the bough reclines the damask rose,
And o'er the lily's milk-white bosom glows;
Fresh in the dew, far o'er the painted dales,
Each fragrant herb her sweetest scent exhales."

CAMOEXS.

We must not now pause to describe how

" POMONA, fired with rival envy, views

The glaring pride of FLORA'S darling hues,"

And endeavors to outvie their beauty and fra-
grance with her own luscious productions, but
turn to the author of " the Task." — Listen to
him ! — Oh, lady readers ! —

" The spleen is seldom felt where FLORA reigns,
The low'ring eye, the petulance, the frown,
And sullen sadness that o'ershade, distort,
And mar the face of beauty, when no cause
For such immeasurable woe appears :
These FLORA banishes, and gives the fair
Sweet smiles, and bloom less transient than her own."

COWPER.

From the Roman Antiquities we learn, that
" Among the Latins, a bride on her wedding-

118 FLORAL CEREMONIES

day was dressed in a long white robe with a
purple fringe ; her face was covered with a red
veil, and her head was crowned with flowers.
On arriving at the house of her husband, she
found woolen fillets round the door-posts, which
were adorned with flowers, and anointed with
the fat of wolves to avert enchantment."

" I oft have seen upon a bridal day,

Full many maids clad in their best array,
In honor of the bride, come with their flaskets
Filled full of flowers ; others in wicker baskets
Bring from the marish rushes to o'erspread
The ground, whereon to church the lovers* tread:
Whilst that the quaintest youth of all the train
Ushers the way with many a piping strain."

WILLIAM BROWNE.

Says our old pastoral poet, in allusion to this
custom, as still followed in comparatively
modern times, though to us the period of which
he writes may be spoken of as (l long, long
ago." In a similar strain sings Drayton,
whose picturesque description of the Marriage
of the Thames and Isis will be found farther
on. Another of the Company of Singers of

FLORAL CEREMONIES. 119

the Elizabethan era, makes this playful allusion
in his Epithalamium : —

" Now busie maydons, strew sweet flowres,
Much like our bride in virgin state, —
Now fresh, then prest, soone dying;
The death is sweet, and must be your?,
Time goes on crutches till that date,
Birds fledged must needes be flying."

CHRISTOPHER CKOOKK.

Then again, in the play of " the Two Noble
Kinsmen," we find a very sweet bridal-song,
beginning thus: —

" Roses, their sharp spines being gone,
Not royal in their smells alone,

But in their hue;
Maiden-pinks, of odors faint.
Daisies, smell-less, yet most quaint,
And sweet thyme true.

" Primrose, first-born child of rer,
Merry spring-time's harbinger,

"With her bells dim ;
Oxlips, in their cradles growing,
Marigolds on death-beds blowing,

Lark-heels trim.

120 FLORAL CEREMONIES.

" All dear Nature's children sweet,
Lye 'fore bride and bridegroom's feet,

Blessing their sense !
Not an angel of the air,
Bird melodious, or bird fair,
Be absent hence."

FLETCHER,

Even at the present day, it is quite customary
with us to strew the path of the bride and
bridegroom with flowers, and to offer them nose-
gays as they come from church ; and in Wales,
as in some of our rural districts, where the
primitive observances have been better pre-
served, wreaths and garlands are worn on such
occasions, and even suspended in the place of
worship itself; and to those who condemn this
practice as unchristianlike, we would say in
the words of Bishop Heber, "If this be
heathenish, Heaven help the wicked ! But I
hope you will not suspect that I shall lend
any countenance to this kind of ecclesiastical
tyranny (which would forbid such rites and
observances), or consent to men's consciences
being burdened with restrictions foreign to the
cheerful spirit of the Gospel." This was

FLORAL CEREMONIES. 121

written in reference to the denouncement of a
certain crown of flowers used in marriages, as
"a device of Satan," and a desire expressed by
an over-jealous professor of Christianity, to ex-
communicate some young persons for wearing
masks, and acting in some private rustic
theatricals.

As the Greeks and Romans were lavish of
flowers at their weddings, so do the modern
Italians delight to use them on such occasions.
Here is a picture of the preparation for a wed-
ding at Florence, drawn by a poetic pencil : —

" 1 stopped beneath the walls

Of San Mark's old cathedral halls.

I entered, and beneath the roof,

Ten thousand wax-lights burnt on high,

And incense from the censors fumed

As for some great solemnity.

The white-robed choristers were singing;

Their cheerful peals the bells were ringing ;

Their deep-voiced music floated round,

As the far arches sent forth sound —

The stately organ : — and fair bands

Of younger girls, strewed with lavish hands

Violets o'er the mosaic floor:

And sang while scattering the sweet store."

L. E. L.

122 FLORAL CEREMONIES.

Let us now take our readers to a northern
clime, where the mighty heart of Nature yet
beats warmly beneath her rugged exterior, and
the bright flowers open their perfumed chalices
in the green valleys, heedless of the snow-
covered mountains which frown upon them on
every side: — to Sweden, where "from the
bank of the river nearest Semb, a little fleet of
gaily decorated boats is pushing off. In the
principal boat sits the lady of Semb, her eyes
turned with quiet enjoyment now on the beau-
tiful scenes of Nature, now on the still more
beautiful objects that are nearer to her — two
happy human beings. Beside her, more like a
little angel than a child, sits the little Hulda ; a
garland of gay flowers twined among her golden
locks. But the looks of all were turned upon
the bride and bridegroom ; and they were,
indeed, beautiful to look upon, so inwardly
happy did they seem. Other boats contained
the wedding guests. The men who rowed had
all garlands on their yellow straw hats, and
thus to the sounds of gay music they passed on
to the chapel. This was a simple building,

FLORAL CEREMONIES. 123

with no other ornament than a beautiful altar
picture, and the flowers and branches of trees,
with which the walls and floor were decorated
in honor of the occasion." Yes ! —

" 'Tis a morn for a bridal, the merry bride bell

Tolls out through the woodland that skirts the chapel.

Do you not hear it ringing ? Do you not see
the gay procession pass onward ? and are you
not aware of a delicious perfume emanating
from the flowers which bestrew the way, and
garlands of the merry company : —

" But other lands and other floral rites,
The thought poetic, and the pen invites."

In Eastern nations flowers and perfumes have
been considered one of the indispensable enjoy-
ments of the higher classes of society, from the
remotest antiquity. From those nations the
Romans appear to have borrowed this delicate
refinement, and to have carried it to the utmost
excess in their costly entertainments. They
soon began to consider flowers as forming a very
essential article in their festal preparations ; and

124 FLOEAL CEREMONIES.

it' is the opinion of Baccius, that, at their
desserts, the number of their flowers far ex-
ceeded that of their fruits. The odour of
flowers was thought to arouse the fainting ap-
petite, and it certainly must have added an
ethereal enjoyment to the grosser pleasures of
their banqueting boards.

Flowers are not only used as a stimulus to
the palate, or that two senses might be gratified
at one time, but it was thought that certain
plants and flowers facilitated the functions of
the brain, and assisted materially to neutralize
the inebriating qualities of wine. Even the
warriors did not hesitate to crown themselves
with flowers during their principal repast.
These observations are equally applicable to
the Greeks, as to the Romans.

Horace, it seems, could not sit down to his
bachelor's glass of wine without his garland.
This lively little ode occurs at the conclusion of
his first book :—

" I tell thee, boy, that I detest
The grandeur of a Persian feast,
Not for me the Linden's rind
Shall the flowery chaplet bind.

FLORAL CEREMONIES. 1 '2 ")

Then search not where the curious rose

Beyond his season loitering grows ;

But beneath the mantling vine,

While I quaff the flowing wine,

The myrtle's wreath shall crown our brows,

While you shall wait and I carouse."

TRANSLATED BY FRANCIS.

•< The allusion to Persia in this ode," says
Phillips, "confirms our idea, that the taste for
flowers came to Rome from the East ; garlands
were suspended at the gates, or in the temples,
where feasts or solemn rejoicings were held,
and at all places where public joy and gaiety
were desired ;" thus, in the play of " All for
Love," Serapim says —

" Set before your doors
The images of all your sleeping fathers,
With laurels crowned ; with laurels wreathe your posts,
And strew with flowers the pavement; let the priest
Do present sacrifice ; pour out the wine,
And call the gods to join with you in gladness."

DRYDEN.

And again, in " the Distrest Mother," we find
an allusion to the floral decorations which it was
customary to place in the hands of victims in
11*

126 FLORAL CEREMONIES.

the ancient sacrifices, at which the priests also
appeared crowned with flowers —

" Thus the gay victim with fresh garlands crowned,
Pleased with the sacred pipe's enlivening sound,
Through gazing crowds in solemn state proceed?,
And dressed in fatal pomp, magnificently bleeds."

PHILLIPS.

" In the annual festivals of the Terminalia, the
peasants were all crowned with garlands of
flowers," says Cicero, and from " Irving's An-
tiquities," we learn that " sacrifices among the
Romans were of different kinds ; the place
erected for offerings was called ara or allare,
an altar ; it was erected with leaves and grass,
adorned with flowers, and bound with woolen
fillets." And this author further tells us, that
" in the triumphal processions of Rome the
streets were strewed with flowers, and the
altars smoked with incense." Let us now take
a picture of one of these Roman triumphs ;
speaking of the Conqueror, the poet says —

He comes, and with a port so proud,
As if ho tad subdued the spacious world
And all Sinope's streets were filled with such

FLORAL CEREMONIES. 127

A glut of people, you would think some god
' llad conquered in their cause, and them thus ranked,
That he might make his entrance on their heads !
While from the scaffolds, windows, tops of he
Are cast such gaudy showers of garlands down,
That e'en the cruwd appear like conquerors,
And the whole city seems like one vast meadow
Set all with flowers, as a clear heaven with star?."

XATHANIEL LEE.

Here is another by a more modern hand : —

" Throughout the city joyful shouts resound,
The gates are garlanded, the columns bound -
With victor laurels, while from lovely hands
Sweet flowers are showered upon the martial bands
As in glad pomp the proud processions march
Through many a fair arcade and trophied arch."

AGXES STRICKLAND.

And yet one more ; it is by T. B. Macauley ;
we are still at the " Seven-hilled city " in the
time of her pristine vigour, ere she had become
luxurious and effeminate; hark at the lo
Triitmphe which swells upon the gale ! Hark
to the shouts of the multitude, and the pealing
of the silver-throated trumpets! It is the feast
of the twin brothers, Castor and Pollux, who
won for Rome the battle of the Lake Regillus :

128 FLORAL CEREMONIES.

" Ho, trumpets, sound a war-note !

Ho, lietors clear the way !
The knights will ride, in all their pride,

Along the streets to-day.
To-day the doors and windows

Are hung with garlands all
From Castor, in the Forum,

To Mars, without the wall.
Each knight is robed in purple,

With olive each is crowned ;
A gallant war-horse under each

Paws haughtily the ground.

On ride they to the Forum,
While laurel-boughs and flowers,

From house-tops and from windows,
Fall on their crests in showers.

Unto the Great Twin Brethren,

Lo ! all the people throng,
With chaplets and with offerings,

With music and with song.
While flows the Yellow River,

While stands the Sacred Hill,
The proud Ides of Quintilis

Shall have such honor still."

LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME.

On the subject of chaplets and garlands so

FLORAL CEREMONIES.

much has been said and written, that we might
fill a volume with mere quotations ; by the
ancients beauty and divinity were alike crowned
with them — the objects of their earthly love,
and of their unearthly adoration ; they have
equally graced the altar and the domestic
hearth; the temple, the palace, and the cottage;
and even down to the present day, wherever
shrines and images are set up as visible mani-
festations of things holy and invisible, there do
wreaths and garlands of flowers continue to be
offered and suspended ; and among those who,
like ourselves, reject as sinful, or, at least quite
unnecessary, all created forms and vain repre-
sentations of the Deity, they are considered as
the fittest ornaments for female loveliness and
childish innocence ; and the most beautiful
objects wherewith we can regale the senses in
seasons of festivity and rejoicing.

As we look upon these pictures we arc
transported in fancy to Arcadian fields and
groves ; the green valley and the sparkling
rivulet are before us ; the sound of the shep-
herd's pipe, the soft bleating of the sheep, and

130 FLORAL CEREMONIES.

the drowsy hum of the wild-bees meets our ears,
while the perfume of the thyme and other odor-
iferous plants and flowers steal over the senses
with a soothing influence, like slumber ; we
dream, yet we are awake ; we behold realities
as though they were but phantoms — creatures
of imagination. All is shadowy, indistinct, yet
full of beauty and intelligence. Lo, you now,
you happy-looking group of men and women,
laden with bright-hued blossoms, and verdant
boughs, piping and singing so merrily as they
cross the plain. Let us question him who sits
watching his sheep by the stream, that glides
so glassly along the foot of the green hill : —

'' From whence come all these shepherd swains
And lovely nymphs attired in green ?"

Hark, he answers, —

" From gathering garlands on the plains
To crown our fair, the shepherds' queen."

Nearer they come, yet nearer, and now the
words of their song can be distinguished ; —

" Bring hither the pinke and purple columhine,
With gillyflowers •

FLORAL CERE MONIES.

Bring sweet carnations, and sops in wine,
Worn of paramours.

Strew me the ground with daff-a-down-dillies,
And cowslips, and kingcups, and loved lilies.

The pretty paunce,

And the chevisaunce,
Shall match with the flower-de-luce."

M. DRAYTON.

Let us follow- the singers through yon grove of
myrtles into the open space beyond, where
upon a grassy hillock, a throne is erected, of
turf, overarched with boughs reft from the
neighboring trees, and literally covered with
wreaths and clusters of the fairest flowers; and
lo ! the queen ! —

" See where she sits upon the grassie greene,

A seemly sight !
Yclad in scarlet, like a ma\den queene,

And ermines white.
Upon her head a crimson coronet,
With daffodils and damask roses set :

Bay-leaves betweene,

And primroses greene
Embellish the sweete violet" — SPENCER.

i .

132 FLORAL CEREMONIES.

HYMN OF THE TURKISH CHILDREN.

BY MISS PARDOE.

A recent traveller in Turkey describes an interesting
ceremony witnessed by her, performed at a time of exces-
sive drought. "At dusk, the village children, walking
two and two, and each carrying a bunch of wild flowers,
drew near the cistern in their turn, and sang to one of
the thrilling melodies of the country, a hymn of supplica-
tion."

Allah ! Father ! hear us ;

Our souls are faint and weak :
A cloud is on our mother's brow,

A tear upon her cheek :
We fain would chase that cloud away,

And stay that sad'ning tear ;
For this it is to-night we

Allah! Father !— hear !

FLORAL CEHE MONIES. 133

We seek the cooling fountain,

Alas ! we seek in vain ;
The cloud that crowns the mountain

Melts not away in rain.
The stream is shrunk, which through our plain

Once glided bright and clear ;
Oh ! ope the secret springs again —

Allah! Father !— hear !

We bring thee flowers, sweet flowers,

All withered in their prime ;
No moisture glistens on their leaves,

They sickened ere their time.
And we, like them, shall pass away,

Ere wintry days are near ;
Shouldst thou not hearken as we pray—

Allah ! Father ! — hear 1

134 FLORAL CERE 51 OX IE S.

HINDOO GIRLS FLOATING THEIR
TRIBUTARY OFFERINGS DOWN THE GANGES.

BY MISS LAXDON.

As they passed along a sequestered river after sunset,
they saw a young Hindoo girl upon the bank, whose em-
ployment seemed to them so strange, that they stopped
their palanquins to observe her. She had lighted a small
lamp, filled with oil of cocoa, and placing it on an earthen
dish, adorned icith a wreath of jloiccrs, had committed it,
with a trembling hand, to the stream, and was now
anxiously watching its progress down the current, heed-
less of the gay cavalcade which had drawn up beside her.
LALLA ROOKH was all curiosity; — when one of her at-
tendants, who had lived upon the banks of the Ganges,
(where this ceremony is so frequent, that often in the
dusk of the evening, the river is seen glittering all over
with lights, like the Oton-tala, or sea of stars,) informed
the princess, that it was the usual way in which the
friends of those who had gone on dangerous voyages
offered up vows for their safe return. If the lamp sunk
immediately, the omen was disastrous ; but if it went
shining down the stream, and continued to burn till en-
tirely out of sight, the return of the beloved object was
considered as certain. LALLA ROOKII.

FLORAL CEREMONIES. 135

They bend above the moonlit stream
With gathered fruit and flowers

The last on which the sun has left
The earlier rosy hours.

One sends a vow to him afar —

Oh ! — never can the heart
Know half the love it cherishes

Until it comes to part.

A thousand things are then recalled,
Though scarcely marked at first ;

But lingering thoughts in after hours
Betray how they were nurs'd.

Another sends a little boat

Upon its happier way ;
She knows to-morrow will restore

The eyes she loved to-day.

They bend with all the eager hopes,

The confidence of youth,
Which makes the future it believes,

And trusts itself with truth.

136 FLORAL CEREMONIES.

And never Grecian chisel formed
Shapes of more perfect grace,

Than by the moonlit Ganges bend
Each o'er her mirrored face.

Ah ! love takes many shapes ; at first

It comes as flashes fly
That bear the lightning on their wings,

And then in darkness die.

But after comes a steadier light,

A long and lasting dream ;
Like the full heaven which the sun

Flings down on life's dark stream.

One lingers — for she dares not trust

Her lamp upon the wave ;
She knows the omen ere it come —

Her heart is its own grave.

There is a love that in the soul

Burns silent and alone,
Though all of earthly happiness,

Has long, too long been flown.

FLORAL CEKEMOJJIES. 137

But like the lotus, whose soft depths

Receive the morning sun ;
The true fond flower still looks to heaven,

Though light and day are done.

And she, amid her gladder friends,

Seems pensive on the strand ;
And keeps her fairy bark unlaunched
Beside her trembling hand.

Why should she send her fairy freight

To question future pain ?
She knows her utter misery —

She loves, and loves in vain

I pray his pardon — he who traced

The graceful forms I see ;
Oh, magic painter to thy skill

The spirit yields its key.

The treasures of these distant lands

Are given to thy will ;
But thou hast yet a dearer charm

The heart obeys thee still.
12*

138 FLORAL CEREMONIES.

After the feast of Whitsuntide, says Vo.v TEITZ, the
young Russian maidens seek the banks of the Nova, and
fling in its waters wreaths of flowers. These are tokens
of affection to absent friends. Our own modern Anacreon
thus addresses the river in which 7ti« sirppositious wreaths
are cast: —

Flow on, thou shining river,

But ere thou reach the sea,
Seek Ella's bow'r and give her

The wreaths I fling o'er thee :
And tell her thus : — If she'll be mine

The current of our lives shall be,
With joys along their course to shine

Like those sweet flowers on thee.

But if in wandering thither,

Thou find she mocks thy pray'r,
Then leave those wreaths to wither

Upon the cold bank there.
And tell her thus : — When youth is o'er

Her lone and loveless charms shall be
Thrown by upon life's weedy shore,

Like those sweet flowers from thee !

FUNERAL FLOWERS.

"FLOWERS, wherefore do ye bloom?

AVe strew the pathway to the tomb!"

J. MONTGOMERY.

"Here is the mother with her sons and daughters :
The barren wife, the long demurring maid,
AVhose lonely unappropriated sweets
Smiled like yon knot of cowslips on the cliff,
Not to be come at by the willing hand:
The sober widow, and the young green virgin,
Cropped like a rose before 'tis fully blown
Or half its worth disclosed. — BLAIR'S GRATE.

" Pleasant," says the Gaelic bard, "is the
joy of grief! it is like the shower of spring,
when it softens the branch of the oak, and the
young leaf lifts its green head." In the pe-
rusal of many, indeed, we believe most, of the
poems which follow, the real mourner may,
without indulging a morbid spirit of repining,
find comfort and consolation ; and for those yet

unvisited by sorrow — the gay and the thought-

139

140 FUNERAL FLOWERS.

less — it is good to be sometimes reminded of
Death, and the Grave ; not to fill them with
gloomy thoughts and forebodings, but to lead
them to the contemplation of higher and more
lasting enjoyments than this life affords. A
memento mori is not necessarily sad and for-
bidding, nor is the dirge-note always a fearful
sound, for to the mind rightly trained and con-
stituted, they speak of a blissful hereafter, and
a glorified existence, for which this is but a
state of preparation. Knowing and feeling this,
we may stand in the church-yard without awe
or dread, and looking through Death's open
portals, into the regions of everlasting happiness
beyond, exclaim : —

"The first tabernacle to HOPE we will build,

And look for the sleepers around us to rise;
The second to FAITH, which ensures it fulfilled;

And the third to the LAMB of the great SACRIFICE,
Who bequeathed us them both when He rose to the skies."
HERBERT KXOWLES.

Let us ever remember, with EPHOX, that
" the flower sheds the same fragrance if it
blooms in Eden or on a grave, and the same

FUXEEAL FLOWEKS. 141

song which awakes the lark at morn may lull
the dying at evening to repose ;" and also
that—

"The sweetest flower in pleasure's path

Will bloom on sorrow's grave." — JOHN CLARE.

•

This life is uncertain, and full of vicissitudes ;
its pleasures are short-lived and fleeting. Change
is the element in which we move, breathe, and
have our being, and no one can tell how soon
the vital spark may be quenched within him —
how soon sorrow may fall upon him, though he
be now full of health, and life, and happiness.
Therefore it is well to contemplate the tomb,
and to be ever prepared for the li-fe that is to
come. The poet asks :—

" Beauteous flowers, why do ye spread
Upon the monuments of the dead?" — COWLEV.

And we may answer, that we place them there
as emblems of the frailty of human existence,
and of the evanescent nature of its brightest
enjoyments ; they also serve to remind us of
that better land, whither we hope the souls of
the departed are gone.

1-12 FUNEBAL FLOWERS.

It was not in their sports oniy, that the
Greeks were so lavish of flowers ; they crowned
their dead with them, and the mourners wore
them, in their funeral ceremonies. That they
also planted them on the graves of the departed,
or at least, deemed it pleasant and fitting that
they should be there, we may learn from this
passage of one of their great dramatists. In the
" Agamemnon," the chorus, lamenting over
Alcestis, says : —

" Oh, lightly on thy hallowed grave
Lie the green turf, the flow'ret wave." — JEscHYLrs.

Indeed, flowers seem to have been to this taste-
ful people, a sort of poetic language, whereby
they expressed the intensity of feelings to which
they found common language inadequate.

A modern poetess, who has caught, and finely
transfused into our language, the spirit of an-
tique song, thus makes a Grecian mother lament
the loss of her son, supposed to have perished
at sea : —

'•Where art thou — where? — Had I but lingering prest
On thy cold lips the last,, long kiss, — but smoothed
The parted ringlets of thy shining hair

FCNERAL FLOWERS. 143

With love's fond touch, my heart's cry had been stilled
Into a voiceless grief; — I would have strewed
With all the pale flowers of the vernal wood?, —
White violets, and the mournful hyacinth,
And frail anemone, thy marble brow,
In slumber beautiful ! — I would have heaped
Sweet boughs and precious odours on thy pyre,
And with thine own shorn tresses hung thine urn,
And many a garland of the pallid rose —
But thou liest far away .' — No funeral c haunt,
Save the wild mourning of the wave, is thine; —
No pyre, save haply some long buried wreck ; —
Thou that we" fairest — thou that wert most loved !"

3Ii:s. HI:MAXS.

Reference is here made to the funeral pyre,
which it seems the Greeks were wont to deck
and garland with flowers, and render odorous
with spices and other fragrant things. It was
not unusual for a statue, called the Funeral
Genius, to be placed in the groves, wherein
were deposited the ashes of the departed. To
one of these our authoress has written an
address, from which we quote : —

"Flowers are upon thy brow, for so the dead

Wore crowned of old, with pale spring flow ers like these;
Sleep on, thine eye hath sunk, yet softly shed,
As from the wing of some faint southern breeze;

144 FDNEEAL FLOWERS.

And the pine boughs o'ershadow thee with gloom
Which of the grove seems breathing — not the tomb.

HEMAXS.

Let us now turn to the Romans, who imitated,
and even went beyond the people last alluded
to, in most of their luxuries and refinements ;
we have already had occasion to show how
lavish these were of flowers in their festivals
and religious rites ; we will now speak of those
which relate to the memory and sepulture of
the dead. OWEN has thus translated an apos-
trophe from the Latin : —

" May gentlest earth our fathers' shades enclose,
Light be their turf, and peaceful their repose ;
Forth, from their urns, the breathing crocus fling,
The balmy sweets of an eternal spring !
Who willed that to the tutor should be showed
The filial reverence to a parent owed."

And DRYDEN has given us, in the following
words, a noble version of that portion of An-
chises' speech to his son, in which he alludes
to bestrewing the funeral pile of Marcellus
with flowers : —

" Full canisters of fragrant lilies bring,
Mixed with the purple roses of the spring :

F V .X K R A L FLOWERS. 115

Let rne with fun'ral flowers his body strow;
This gift which parents to their children owe,
This unavailing gift, at least, I may bestow !"

VIRGIL.

From these t\vo extracts we may gather, that it
was considered a duty incumbent on children,
to deck with flowers the bodies and places of
sepulture of their parents, and also on them to
pay similar honours to those of their offspring.
In the same poem as that from which the last
quotation was taken, we have these lines : —

" The fatal pile they rear
Within the secret court, exposed in air.
The cloven holms and pines are heaped on high ;
And garlands in the hollow spaces lie.
Sad cypress, vervain, yew, compose the wreath,
And every baleful flower denoting death." — VIRGIL.

This was to be the place of destruction, by fire,
of the self-immolated queen Dido, and we are
here strongly reminded of the Hindoo custom
of burning widows on the funeral pyre of their
husbands. The poet says : —

"The widowed Indian, when her lord expires,
Mounts the dread pile, and braves the fun'ral fires."

CAMPBELL.

•

146 FUNEKAt FLOWEBS.

And DIODORUS tells how she goes (( crowned
by the women of her house," meaning, no
doubt, crowned with flowers.

When a woman in Tripoli dies, a large bou-
quet of fresh flowers, if they can be procured,
if not, of artificial, is fastened at the head of her
coffin. Upon the death of a Moorish lady of
quality, every place is filled with fresh flowers
and burning perfumes : at the head of the corpse
is placed a large bouquet, partly artificial, and
partly natural, and richly ornamented with silver.
TULLY, who describes these customs, mentions
a lady of high rank, who regularly visited the
tomb of her daughter, who had been three
years dead ; she always kept it in repair, and
with the exception of the great mosque, it was
one of the grandest buildings in Tripoli. From
the time of the young lady's death, the tomb
had always been supplied with the most expen-
sive flowers, placed in beautiful vases; and, in
addition to these, a great quantity of fresh
Arabian jessamine blossoms, threaded on thin
slips of the palm leaf, were hung in festoons
and tassels about this revered sepulchre. The

FUNERAL FLOWERS. 147

mausoleum of the royal family, which is called
7\trbor, is of the purest white marble, and is
filled with an immense quantity of fresh flowers ;
most of the tombs being dressed with festoons
of the Arabian jessamine, and large branches
of variegated flowers, consisting of orange,
myrtle, red and white roses, etc. They afford
a perfume which those who are not habituated
to such choice flowers can scarcely conceive.
We may imagine the bereaved mother, above
spoken of, addressing the shade of the departed
in words like those by PAUL THE SILENTIARY : —

"Sweet maid, thy parents fondly thought
To show thy bride-bed, not thy bicr.j
But thou hast left a being, fraught

With wiles, and toils, and anxious fear.
For me remains a journey drear,
For thee a blessed eternal prime,

Untiring, in thy short career,
Youth's blossom with the fruit of time."

TRANSLATED ur BRAND.

Like those of the modern Turks, the magnifi-
cent mausoleums of the Persian and Mogul
emperors and kings, and those which they
erected to perpetuate the memory of some of

148 FCXERAL FLOWERS.

their favourite wives, were surrounded with
beautiful gardens, and the representation of
flowers in gems, and costly marbles, enriched
the gorgeous interiors of these " sculptured
tombs of Hindoostan."

In CHATEAUBRIAND'S delightful romance,
called after its heroine, ATALA, with which
most of our readers must be acquainted, we
have these allusions to the funeral customs of
some of the tribes of North America : " We
passed near the tomb of a child, which served
as a boundary to two nations. It was placed
near the public road, according to custom, that
virgins, in going to the fountain, might breathe,
and receive into their bosoms the soul of the
little innocent, and restore it to their country.

" We then saw newly married brides, who,
desiring the joys of maternity, sought among
the flowers the soul of the infant, which they
imagined to be hovering around. At last came
the mother, and placing a bunch of maize and
lilies upon the grave, she seated herself upon
the turf, and thus addressed her departed
child :—

FUNERAL FLOWERS. 140

" l Why should I deplore thy early grave,
oh ! my first-born ? When the newly fledged
bird first seeks his food, he finds many bitter
grains. Thou never felt the pangs of sorrow,
and thy heart was never polluted by the
poisonous breath of men. The rose that is
nipped in the bud, dies enclosed with all its
perfumes, like thee, my son, with all thy
innocence. Happy are those who die in
infancy ; they have never known the joys or
sorrows of a mother.' "

How touchingly expressed is this chastened
sorrow of the Indian matron : we cannot refrain
from giving, as a companion to her apostrophe,
the following beautiful epitaph on a child : —

" Here she lies, a pretty bud,
Lately made of flesh and blood ;
Who so soon fell fast asleep
As her little eyes did peep.
(!iM- hiT xii-i'ii-iiiys, but no! ftir
The earth that lightly i-o\urs her."

HUBERT HERRICK.

In reference to the superstition, regarding the

supposed existence of the soul of a departed
13*

150 FUNERAL FLOWEKS.

infant in the flowers, we quote this passage from
the work above referred to: — "I gathered a
rose from a magnolia, and placed it, yet moist
with the dew, upon the head of Atala, who still
slept. I hoped that, according to my religion,
the soul of some new-born infant would descend
on the crystal dew of this flower, and that a
prosperous dream would convey it to the bosom
of my beloved." Stay ! we have another floral
epitaph, which, as it relates to a child, we
should like to quote in this place ; it is from a
country church-yard in Ireland : —

"A little spirit slumbers here,
Who to one heart was ever dear.
Oh ! he was more than life or light,
Its thought by day — its dream by night.
The chill winds came; the young flower faded,
And died ; the grave its sweetness shaded.
Fair boy ! thou shouldst have wept for me,
Not I have had to mourn for thee ;
Yet not long shall my sorrowing be —
These roses I have planted round,
To deck thy dear, sad, sacred ground,
When spring gales next these roses wave,
They'll blush upon thy mother's grave."

Let us now return to ATALA — alas ! she died '

FUNERAL tLOWEES. 151

and exquisitely pictured is the scene of watching
over her, previous to interment : — « The pious
anchorite ceased not to pray during the whole
night. I sat in silence on the top of Atala's
funeral couch : how often had I supported her
sleeping head upon my knees, and how often
had I bent over her beauteous form, listening
to her, and inhaling her perfumed breath ; but
now no soft murmur issued from her motionless
bosom, and it was in vain that I waited for my
beloved to awake. The moon supplied her
pale light to the funeral eve ; she rose at mid-
night as a fair virgin that weeps over the bier
of a departed friend ; it covered the whole
scene with a deep melancholy, displaying the
aged oaks and flowing rivers. From time to
time the cenobite plunged a bunch of flowers
into consecrated water, and bathed the couch of
death with the heavenly dew, repeating, in a
solemn voice, some verses from an ancient poet
called JOB : —

"He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down; ho
flecth also as a shadow, and continueth not

" Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery ?
and life unto the bitter of soul?"

152 FUNEBAL FLOWERS.

t( Atala lay stretched upon a couch of sensitive
plants ; her feet, head, and shoulders, were un-
covered, and her hair was adorned with a flower
of a magnolia, it was the same flower which I
had placed upon the maiden's head."

"Thus have I seen a rose with rising morn,
Unfold its glowing bloom, sweet to the smell,
And lovely to the eye, when a keen wind
Hath torn its blushing leaves, and laid it low,
Stripped of its sweets." — MICHAEL BRUCE.

'These lines may well apply to the gentle and
lovely being who was laid at rest in the depths
of the Indian forest ; and in allusion to the
burial places of whose countrymen, CHATEAU-
BRIAND thus writes : — " I have seen memorable
monuments to Crassus and to Caesar, but I
prefer the airy tombs of the Indians, those mau-
soleums of flowers and verdure, refreshed by
the morning dew ; embalmed and waved by
the breeze on the same branch where the black-
bird builds his nest, and utters forth his plain-
tive melody."

But let us leave the mighty forests and far
sweeping rivers of the West, and come to our

FUNEIIAL FLOWERS. l.>!

own country, first giving a look into the Grecian
Archipelago, to see if we can trace any remains
of the floral customs of the ancient dwellers in
those (l rocky islands of the JEgean sea."
Hush! tread softly through the "dusky cor-
ridor," and look into that dimly-lighted room ;
what see we there ? 'Tis the Corsair's bride —
poor Medora ! — stretched lifeless on the bier : —

" In life itself she was so still and fair,
That death with gentler aspect withered there;
And the cold flowers her colder hand contained,
In that last grasp so tenderly were strained,
As if she scarcely felt, but feigned a sleep,
And made it almost mockery to weep." — BYRON.

In the Levant, then, we are told, by him who
drew this picture — it is still the custom to strew
flowers on the bodies of the dead, and in the
hands of young persons to place a nosegay.
Can we not find a dirge for this heart-broken
lady ? Aye, here it is, very sweet and appro-

"Weep not, weep not, she is dead,
Cold and dreamless now she lyeth

SThero the damp dull clay is spread,
And the death-worm sigheth.

FUNERAL FLOWERS.

" Lay a white rose on her breast,

Pied violets dim, and cypress sere,
That the scent of flowers may rest
In her wintry sepulchre." — EPHOX.

In France — La Belle France! — the land of the
Troubadour and Minnesinger, they, perhaps
more than any other nation of modern times,
cherish the memory of the dead, by ornament-
ing their places of sepulture with the finest
flowers, often renewing the garlands, and re-
placing such plants as decay with vigorous and
costly ones ; this is especially the case in the
South of France, where the custom is of very
ancient date, of expressing both love and hatred
for the dead ; the first by rearing only the most
beautiful and sweet-scented flowers on the
grave ; and the latter, by sowing around the
seeds of such plants as were, for some reason
or other, regarded as obnoxious. Let us illus-
trate our meaning by a picture, contrasting the
two graves of the loved and the hated — the
betrayer and the betrayed : —

" Wild are the tales which of that grave are told : —
Around it grows each rank and noxious weed; —
The poisonous toad-stool in that corner thrives; —

FUNERAL FLOWERS. 155

There shrieks the night-bird from the blasted yew,
Which doth exclude the gladdening light of Heaven.
By all unhallowed things that spot is banned ;
The path which erst lay near it is o'ergrown ; —
No one could pass that fearful grave at night!

"And Ella lies where yonder blushing rose
And jessamine enclasp that simple tomb; —
That spot the setting sun delights to kiss;
And there the moonbeams shed their softest smile;
The daisy and the cowslip shine around;
And on each May-day morn, upon that stone
Is seen » beauteous wreath of fairest flowers." — S. T. L

In Switzerland, also, as well as in Wales, and
some other parts of Britain, flowers are planted
by the hand of affection on the graves of de-
parted relatives. It is a touching and beautiful
custom, and in both the above-named countries,
even the peasant may often be seen bending
orer the hallowed turf, and as he inserts into
the sod some new plant or flower, he performs
the act, which testifies of his affectionate re-
membrance, with a feeling and a delicacy
which do honour to his unsophisticated heart.
In Glamorganshire, it is yet a custom to strew
the bed whereon a corpse rests, with fragrant

156 FUNERAL FLO WE US.

flowers. So, in the South of England, a chaplet
of white roses is borne before the corpse of a
maiden by a young girl, nearest in age and re-
semblance to the deceased, and afterwards hung
up over her accustomed seat at church. They
are emblematical, says WASHINGTON IRVING, of
purity and the crown of glory, which she has
received in heaven : —

"A garland shall be formed
By art and nature's skill,
Of sundry colored flowers

In token of good-will, —
The blessed crown of glory,
And the hopes which us do fill."

Many and very beautiful are the allusions
made to this custom by our old poets and drama-
tists ; we shall only have space to quote a few
of them from the prince of song and master of
the passions : —

QUEEN. — " Sweets to the sweet Farewell !

( Scattering flowers. )

I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife ;
I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,
And not t' have strew'd thy grave. — HAMLET, ACT V.

FUNERAL FLOWERS. K>7

f n this burial scene of poor Ophena, we find
the priest saying : —

" Hero she is allowed her virgin rites,

Her maiden strewments."

Some editions have it "her virgin cranls." that
is, garlands. Her brother, Laertes, says : —

" Lay her i' the earth;

And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
May violets spring."

158 FUNERAL FLOWERS.

LINES.

BY M. A. BROWSE.

"Do not pluck the flowers, they are sacred to tne dead."

An inscription, similar to the foregoing, it seen in mar.y
parts of the Eoman Catholic Burial Ground, Botanic
Gardens, Cork.

OH ! spare the flowers, the fair young flowers,

The free glad gift the summer brings ;
Bright children of the sun and showers,

Here do they rise, earth's offerings.
Rich be the dew upon you shed

Green be the bough that o'er you waves,
Weariless watchers by the dead,

Unblenching dweller 'midst the graves !

Oh ! spare the flowers ! their sweet perfume,
Upon the wandering zephyr cast,

And lingering o'er the lowly tomb,
Is like the memory of the past

FUNERAL FLOWERS. 159

They flourish freshly, though beneath
Lie the dark dust and creeping worm,

They speak of Hope, they speak of Faith ;
They smile, like rainbows thro' the storm.

Pluck not the flowers — the sacred flowers !

Go where the garden's treasures spread,
Where strange bright blossoms deck the bowers.

And spicy trees their odors shed.
There pluck, if thou delight'st, indeed,

To shorten life so brief as theirs,
But here the admonition heed —

A blessing on the hand that spares !

Pluck not the flowers ! In days gone by

A beautiful belief was felt,
That fairy spirits of the sky

Amidst the trembling blossoms dwelt.
Perhaps the dead have many a guest,

Holier than any that are ours,
Perhaps their guardian angels rest

Enshrined amidst the gentle flowers.

1 f>0 FUNERAL FLOWERS.

Hast thou no loved one lying low,

No broken reed of earthly trust ?
Hast thou not felt the bitter woe

With which we render dust to dust?
Thou hast ! and in one cherished spot,

Unseen, unknown to earthly eyes,
Within their heart, the unforgot

Entombed in silent beauty lies.

Memory and Faith, and Love so deep.

No earthly storm can reach it more —
Affection that hath ceased to weep,

These flourish in thy bosom's core.
Spare then the flowers ! With gentle tread

Draw near, remembering what thou art,
For blossoms sacred to the dead,

Are ever springing in thy heart.

FUNERAL FLOWERS. 161

MRS. HE MANS AND L. E. L.

" A touching and graceful compliment was once paid to
L. E. L. It was a tribute from America, sent from the
far-offbanks of the Ohio — a curious species of the Michigan
rose, accompanied by a prayer that she would plant it on
the grave of Mrs. Hemans. To no hand could it hare
been more appropriately transmitted, than to the hand
which wrote so reverently and rapturously of that gifted
woman." — LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OP L. E. L.

The author of the above work, LAMAX BLANCH ARD, in
the introduction, mentions a very beautiful expression of
L. E. L., when writing of a great author, lately dead : —
" I almost fear to praise such a man ; but comfort myself
with thinking that though few can raise the carved marble
over a great author's remains, all may throw a floicer on
his grave." How touchingly beautiful are L. E. L.'s
Stanzas on the Death of Mrs. Hemans; well may she
repeat from this lamented authoress' " Lays of Many
Lands," — " The rose, the glorious rose, is gone," and
continue : —

tl Bring flowers to crown the cup and lute —

Bring flowers — the bride is near ;
Bring flowers to soothe the captive's cell,

Bring flowers to strew the bier !
14*

162 FUNERAL FLOWERS.

Bring flowers ! thus said the lovely song ;

And shall they not be brought
To her who linked the offering

With feeling and with thought ?

" Bring flowers — the perfumed and the pure —

Those with the morning dew,
A sigh on every fragrant leaf,

A tear on every hue.
So pure, so sweet, thy life has been,

So rilling earth and air
With odors, and with loveliness,

Till common scenes grow fair."

THE WEDDING WAKE.

BY GEORGE BARLEY.

WE'LL carry her o'er the churchyard green,

Down by the willow trees ;
We'll bury her by herself between

Two sister cypresses.

Flowers of the sweetest, saddest hue,

Shall deck her lowly bed,
Rosemary at her feet we'll strew,

And violets at her head.

FUNERAL FLOWERS. 163

The pale rose, the dim azure-bell,

And that lamenting flower,
With ai ! ai ! its eternal knell,

Shall over-bloom her bower —

Her cypress bower ; whose shade beneath

Passionless she shall lie ;
To rest so calm, so sweet in death,

'Twere no great ill to die !

Ye four fair maids, the fairest ye,

Be ye the flower-strewers !
Ye four bright youths the bearers be,

Ye were her fondest wooers !

To church ! to church ! ungallant youth,

Carry your willing bride !
So pale he looks ! 'twere well, in sooth,

He should lie by her side !

The bed is laid, the toll is done,

The ready priest doth stand ;
Come, let the flowers be strown, be strewn,

Strike up ye bridal band !

THE DYING BOY TO THE SLOE BLOSSOM.

BT E. ELLIOTT.

BEFORE thy leaves tliou com'st once more,

White blossom of the sloe !
Thy leaves will come as heretofore ;
But this poor heart, its troubles o'er,
Will then lie low.

A month at least before thy time

Thou com'st, pale flowej, to me ;
For well thou know'st the frosty rime
Will blast me ere my vernal prime,
No more to be.

Why here in winter ? No storm lours

O'er nature's silent shroud !
But blithe larks meet the sunny showers,
High o'er the doom'd untimely flowers
In beauty bow'd.
164

THE DYING BOY.

Sweet violets in the budding grove

Peep where the glad waves run ;
The wren below, the thrush above,
Of bright to-morrow's joy and love
Sing to the sun.

And where the rose-leaf, ever bold,
Hears bees chant hymns to God,
The breeze-bowed palm, moss'd o'er with gold,
Smiles o'er the well in summer cold,
And daisied sod.

But thou, pale blossom, thou art come,

And flowers in winter blow,
To tell me that the worm makes room
For me, her brother, in the tomb,
And thinks me slow.

For as the rainbow of the dawn

Foretells an eve of tears,
A sunbeam on the sadden'd lawn
I smile, and weep to be withdrawn
In early years.

16G THE DYING BOY.

Thy leaves will come ! but songful spring

Will see no leaf of mine :
Her bells will ring, her bridemaids sing,
When my young leaves are withering
Where no suns shine.

Oh, might I breathe morn's dewy breath
When June's s\veet Sabbaths chime !
But, thine before my time, oh, death !
I go where no flow'r blossometh,
Before my time.

Even as the blushes of the morn

Vanish, and long'ere noon
The dew-drop dieth on the thorn,
So fair I bloom'd ; and was I born
To die as soon ?

To love my mother, and to die —

To perish in my bloom !
Is this my sad, brief history ! —
A tear dropp'd from a mother's eye
Into the tomb.

THE DYING EOT. 167

He lived and loved — will sorrow say —

By early sorrows tried ;
He smiled, he sigh'd, he pass'd away ;
His life was but an April day, —
He loved, and died !

My mother smiles, then turns away,

But turns away to weep ;
They whisper round me — what they say
I need not hear, for in the clay
I soon must sleep.

O, love is sorrow ! sad it is

To be both tried and true ;
I ever trembled in my bliss :
Now there are farewells in a kiss,—
They sigh adieu.

But woodbines flaunt when blue bells fade,

Where Don reflects the skies ;
And many a youth in ShireclifFs' shade
Will ramble where my boyhood play'd :
Though Alfred dies.

WILD FLOWERS.

" WILD FLOWERS seem to me the true philanthropists of
their race. Their generous and cheerful faces ever give a
kindly greeting to the troops of merry village children who
revel in their blossoming wealth ; and right welcome are
they gladdening the eyes of the poor mechanic, when he
breathes the fresh country air on Sunday, and gathers a
handful of cowslips or daffodils, or the prouder foxglove,
to carry home, and set in the dim window of his pent-up
dwelling. So dear and beautiful are WILD FLOWEKS, that
one would think every one mutt love them."

Miss TWAMLEY.

Aye, must love them indeed, Lady ! well
might BURNS pause with his plough, to lament
over the daisy which he had destroyed ; well
might WORDSWORTH pen, I know not how
many stanzas, to the same simple flower, and
to the golden celandine ; and well might
another child of song exclaim : —

" Oh ! I'll never envy riches, though toilin' at the plough,
There's flowers alang the peasant's path, e'en kingt miyht
stoop to pit'." — G. W.

15 169

J

170 WILD BLOWERS.

The primrose and the violet, the cowslip and
the daffodil, and all the sweet dwellers in the
green lanes, and the shady woods, and the
sunny meadows, have ever been the especial
favorites, not only of those, who heing denied
access to the conservatory and the parterre, are
not brought into contact with the more richly
tinted and gorgeous productions of foreign
climes, but also of the whole race of poets,
many of whom are surrounded with these
splendid exotics, in their dwellings, and every
day walks ; and most, or all of whom, enjoy
frequent opportunities of observing and ad-
miring them ; and yet for poems in praise of
the geranium and the cactus, we might search
in vain ; while for those which celebrate the
" wildings' of nature," have we not enough to
fill volumes ? Aye ! volumes fraught with
beauty and fragrance, of which this is but a
foretaste and a specimen.

Not only with vine leaves and ears of corn

Is nature dress'd, but 'neath the feet of man,

As at a sovereign's feet, she scatters flowers,

And sweet and useless plants, which, born to please,

Disdain to serve." — MADAME DE STAEL.

WILD FLOWERS. 171

We have italicised two words in this quota-
tion, because we do not like them. It is our creed
and belief that nothing which God has created
is useless ; we may not perceive its applicability
to any known purpose, but we are not therefore
to conclude that it is of no service — that it per-
forms no important function in the great scheme
of universal being our greatest living poet
says : —

"Small service is true service while'it lasts,

Of friends, however humble, scorn not one ;
The daisy, by the shadow that it ea.-'ts,

Protects the lingering dew-drop from the sun."

We are but too apt to look upon part of the
vegetation with which the earth is covered —
" clothed as with a garment of beauty" — as
worthless and contemptible, especially when
there are no blossoms, which with their tint or
perfume, afford gratification to the senses ; and
to pass by " common weeds" as vile things, not
simply useless, but mischievous : —

" Scorn not those rude, unlovely things,

All cultureless that grow,
And rank o'er woods, and wilds, and springs,
Their vain luxuriance throw.

172 WILD FLOWEES.

A^VS^^VS^^V^ ^N^W/^xv~N^~^^>*-.^>^

" Eternal love and wisdom drew
The plan of earth and skies ;
And He the span of heaven that threw,
Commands the weeds to rise.

" Then think not nature's scheme sublime
These common things might spare ;-
for science may detect in time
A thousand virtues there." — J. F. SMITH.

Daily more and more are the mysteries of
nature unfolded to us ; daily more and more are
her " Hidden Uses" made manifest.

It is in no irreverent spirit that we venture
to quote the command which came to the apostle
Peter from heaven, with a slight alteration, to
suit our purpose. " What God has created,
that call thou not useless," for nothing is there
which may not be made applicable to satisfy
our bodily or mental wants ; if it contribute not,
directly or indirectly, to our sustenance, or
comfort, or relief in sickness, yet will it yield
moral instruction, or intellectual pleasure, and
therefore is it truly serviceable to us.

"To whisper hope — to comfort man —

"Whene'er his faith is dim,
For whoso careth for the flowers
Will care much more for him."

WILD FLO WEE 8. 173

And this is the moral which may be drawn
from the meanest weed, or blade, or leaf, on
which we gaze. We have not the original to
refer to, but cannot help thinking that useless
was not exactly the word to express MADAME
DE STAEL'S meaning, as she says directly after,
11 which, born to please," and this negatives
the idea of their being useless, as it implies an
and and a purpose, which they are to answer,
though not, perhaps, the highest.

And now for the second count in the indict-
ment— the other objectionable word — which is
also open to the suspicion of being a mistrans-
lation ; that flowers disdain to serve, we strongly
deny. Of all the creatures and objects which
minister to man's wants, or pleasures, they are
the gentlest, the most unresisting ; he may
crush them, trample on them, do with them as
he will, yet there they are, ever smiling up in
his face, yielding him their fragrance, their
nutriment, their alleviation for bodily pain, and
mental disquietude : —

" Oh ! tell me not the gentle flowers

Disdain to serve mankind, —

15*

174 \VILD FLOWERS.

To renovate the sinking powers,

To soothe the troubled mind,
When gloomily the welkin lowers,

And fortune is unkind;
" They comfort man in his distress,

They smile when he is gay ;
Their fragrance and their loveliness,

They yield him day by day ;
For patience and for humbleness.

No servitors like they." — H. G. A.

They are pulled and scattered to the four
winds, by the hand of careless childhood, yet
ever do they spring up again for his delight and
gladness ; they are gathered alike by the soft
white hand of beauty, and the toil-hardened one
of industry, unrepining they breathe out their
fragrant lives on the bosom of the former, and
borne by the latter into the crowded city, they
strive to beautify and perfume his hot and
murky dwelling-place. Here is a picture of
them thus striving : —

' A broken flower-pot, with a string secured,
Contained a living treasure — a green clump —
(Just bursting into bloom) of the field orchis.

'You care for flowers,' I said, ' and that fair thing,
The beautiful orchis, seems to flourish well
With little light and air.'

•WILD FLOWERS. 175

' It won't for long,'

The man made answer, with a mournful smile,
Eyeing the plant — ' I took it up, poor thing !
But Sunday evening last, from the rich meadow,
Where thousands bloom so gay, and brought it here,
To smell of the green fields for a few days,
Till Sunday comes again — and rest mine eyes on,
AVhen I look up, fatigued, from these dead gems
And yellow glittering gold.' "—Miss BOWLES.

The man was a working jeweller, and could
estimate rightly the great value of the precious
ore, and glittering gems, entrusted to him ; and
yet more highly did he prize the simple Wild
Flower, which reminded him of his rarely
enjoyed country walks, and brought something
of the freshness and beauty of nature into his
home and his heart ; pleasant associations were
mingled with the sight of that flower, and it
cheered and refreshed him at his labor, to look
upon it, and 19 think • —

" Thus, when within my sunless room,

Heartsick, and mocked by mammon's leaven,
Thy pyramids of purple bloom,
Blush through the loneliness and gloom,
My spirit bursts its living tomb,

And basks beneath the open heaven."

176 WILD FLOWERS.

We have thus endeavored to defend our
beloved friends, the flowers, from the charge of
disdaining to serve, by showing the true service
which they render to man ; and now, let us
give a companion picture to the one above ; —
it is from " Nina Sforza :" —

" I late was passing by a poet's door,
Who, on his windoiv-sill, with wasted care,
Had placed a hungry shrub for light — a want
That crowded quarter miserly supplied ;
A wild field-rose it was ; it may be slippe
As sweet remembrance of his wanderings ;
'Twas withering fast, yet, 'midst its dry, curl'd leaves,
One sickly bud had struggled into bloom.
That bud, so pale, so common, fix'd my step ;
I thought it priceless, and, except for shame,
Had very gladly stolen away a leaf;
I, whose court-life had ever been perfumed
With every rarest flower that we know.
Now, think you, 'twas the rose-bud that I saw ?
Believe it not ! It was the poet's soul
Diffused by mental magic, over all
Which environed the proud connection of his nam
R. Z. S. TROUGHTOX.

" Better," says ourmost delightful of essayists,
LEIGH HUNT, " better hang a wild rose over the
toilet, than nothing. The eye that looks in the

W 1 L D F L O W E R S. 177

glass will see there something besides itself, and
acquire something of a religious right to respect
itself, in thinking by how many objects in the
creation the bloom of beauty is shared." And
a^ain, speaking of " Breakfast in Summer,"
he says : — " Set flowers on your table, a whole
nosegay if you can get it, — or but two or three, —
or a single flower, — a rose, a pink, nay, a daisy.
Bring a few daisies and buttercups, from your
last field walk, and keep them alive in a little
water; and preserve but a bunch of clover, or
a handful of flowering grass, one of the most
elegant, as well as cheap, of nature's productions,
— and you have something on your table that
reminds you of the beauty of God's creation,
and gives you a link with the poets and sages
that have done it most honour. Put but a rose,
era lily, or a violet, on your table, and you and
Lord Bacon have a custom in common ; for
that great and wise man was in the habit of
having the flowers in season set upon his
table, — morning, and, we believe, noon, and
night ; that is to say, at all his meals ; for din-
ner, in his time, was taken at noon : and why

178 WILD FLOWERS.

should he not have flowers at all his meals,
seeing that they were growing all day ? Now
here is a fashion that shall last you for ever, if
you please ; never changing with silks, and
velvets, nor dependent upon the caprice of some
fine gentleman or lady. The fashion of the
garments of heaven and earth endures for-
ever, and you may adorn your table with spe-
cimens of their drapery, — with flowers out of the
fields, and golden beams out of the blue ether."
Shall we not away, then, reader, to gather
the wild beauties, of nature, which are so
lavishly scattered abroad for us, and adorn our
homes with that drapery of the earth and the
heavens ?

For as Miss PARDOE exclaims : — " Is not the
holiness of nature a loftier contemplation than
the gilded saloons of the g-reat ? The power
to feel and to appropriate the noble gifts of the
Creator, eminently more glorious, than the
talent to discover the finite perfections of the
creature ? Is not the breeze which sweeps
over the heathy hill, or through the blossom-

WILD FLOWERS. 179

scented valley, more redolent of real sweetness
than the perfume-laden halls of luxury ?"

" I know a brook that all the livelong day
Babbles the silence of a vale awa y,
With gurgle, gurgle, for its ceaseless song;
Many a hermit flower is found along
Its mossy banks — some deep secluded, where
None knew their being, save the prying air,
That is their faithless confident, and tells
The fragrant sighs he heard within their cells.
Some, less retired, bent vainly o'er the brook,
For their sweet image in its mirror look ;
A broken reflex in the water
Is all they find — they gaze — they hope — alas !
They die despairing, amorous of themselves ! —
Why still ye not the waters, sylphs and elves !
And let me, in my lonely musing walk,
Hoar a wild blossom to its beauty talk ?

" What would it say ? — delight and purity
And music, surely would its language be
To its sweet rival-sdf within the stream —
Alas ! this minds me of a long-fled dream !

J. A. WADE.

A dream, doubtless, of vanished beauty — of a
light that is quenched — of fragrance wasted
upon the air ! but let us on in our s\veet quest,
listing, as \ve go, to the words of the lately

180 WILD FLOWERS.

departed poet, CAMPBELL : — " I delight in the
Flowers of the Field ; they have all some charm
or other in my eyes, — with their shapes and
nues they speak a language of their own, to
my imagination ; and when I have admired
their beauty, I like to consult the dictionary
about their uses and qualities." Better still
were it to have some friend acquainted with th^
hidden properties of nature's various produc-
tions, to whom, like Thyrsis lamenting for his
Damon, one might say : —

" Thou shalt cull me simples, and shall teach

Thy friend the name and healing powers of each,
From the tall blue-bell to the dwarfish weed,
What the dry land, and what the marshes feed;
For all their kinds alike to thee are known,
And the whole art of Galen is thine own."

The friends of the poet, above alluded to,
might well exclaim, with the concluding words
of the quotation : —

" Ah ! perish Galen's art, and withered be
The useless herbs that gave not health to thee."

COWPEB, FROM MlLTOK.

WILD FLO WEB 8. 181

Wronging, in the bitterness of their grief, the
plants which were powerless to save him :

"Who bade the many-coloured bow
With brighter, richer hues to glow,

And from the lowly Field Flowers rose,
To meet the last of all our race,
Stern moralizing, face to face,

With Time and Life, in their last throes."

II. G. A.

Let us now put ourselves under the guidance
of WILLIAM HOWITT — one who knows well
where the sweetest Wild Flowers are to be
found, and who has, moreover, a true eye for
the beautiful and picturesque in nature, and a
true heart to sympathize, alike in grief or joy,
with his fellow-men. See what an English
landscape opens before us as we follow the
path which he indicates : "It is evening, what
a calm and basking sunshine lies on the green
landscape. -Look around, — all is beauty, and
richness, and glory. Those tall elms, which
surround the church-yard, letting the grey
tower get but a passing glimpse of the river,
and that 'other magnificent circle of solemn
trees, which stretch up the side of the same
16

182 WILD FLOWERS.

fair stream, — ho\v they hang in the most ver-
dant and luxuriant masses of foliage ! What a
soft, hazy, twilight floats about them ! What a
slumberous calm rests upon them ! Slumberous
did I say ? no, it is not slumberous ; it has nothing
of sleep in its profound repose. It is the depth
of a contemplative trance ; as if every tree were
a living, thinking spirit, lost in the vastness of
some absorbing thought. It is the hush of a
dream-land ; the motionless majesty of an en-
chanted forest, bearing the spell of an irrefrag-
able silence." Pause here a moment, while
we repeat a few lines, which this idea has
brought to our memory ; we have but to change
the time from evening to night, and it will be
exactly applicable : —

" Old trees by night are like men in thought,
By poetry to silence wrought ;
They stand so still, and they look so wise,
With folded arms, and half shut eyes,
More shadowy than the shade they cast
When the wan moonlight on the river passed."

F. W. FABER.

And now to continue our examinanon of the
beauties of the prospect before us : — " See over

WILD FLOWERS. 183

those wide meadows, what an affluence of vege-
tation ! — How that herd of cattle, in color, and
form, and grouping, worthy the pencil of Cuyp
or Ruysdael, graces the plenty of that field of
most lustrous gold ; and all around, the grass
growing for the scythe, almost overtops the
hedges with its abundance. As we track the
narrow footpath, we cannot avoid a lively ad-
miration of the rich mosaic of colors that are
woven all through them — the yellow rattle —
the crimson stems and heads of the burnet, that
plant of beautiful leaves — the golden trifolium
— the light quakegrass — the azure milkwort —
and clover scenting all the air. And lo ! there
are the mowers sit work ! there are the hay-
makers ! Green swathes of mown grass — hay-
cocks and wagons ready to bear them away —
it is summer, indeed !" We must have another
verse of poetry — another quaff from the Pierian
springs — what shall it be ? Oh ! let us quote
from a poet whom we have hitherto too much
neglected : —

* Hark ! -where the sweeping scythe now rips along;
Each sturdy mower emulous and strong,

WILD FLOWERS.

Whose writhing form meridian heat defies,
Bends o'er his work, and every sinew tries ;
Prostrates the waving treasure at his feet,
But spares the rising clover, short and sweet.
Come Health ! come Jollity ! light-footed, come ;
Here hold your revels, and make this your home."

BLOOMFIELD.

Now again for HOWITT'S rich prose : —
"What a fragrance comes floating on the
gale from the clover in the standing grass ; from
the new-mown hay ; and from these sycamore
trees, with all their pendant flowers. It is deli-
cious ; and yet one cannot help regretting that
the year has advanced so far. Here, the wild
rose is putting out ; the elder is already in
flower ; they are all beautiful, but saddening
signs of the swift-winged time. Let us sit down
by this little stream, and enjoy the pleasantness
that it presents, without a thought of the future.
Ah! this sweet place 'is just in its pride. The
flags have sprung thickly in the bed of the
brook, and their yellow flowers are beginning
to show themselves. The green locks of the
water ranunculuses are lifted by the stream, and
their flowers form snowy islands on the surface ;

WILD FLOWERS. 185

the water-lilies spread out their leaves upon it
like the pallettes of fairy painters ; and that
opposite bank, what a prodigal scene of vigorous
and abundant vegetation it is. There are the
blue geraniums as lovely as ever ; the meadow-
sweet is hastening to put out its form-like
flowers ; that species of golden-flowered mustard
occupies the connecting space between the land
and water ; and harebells, the jagged pink
lichnis, and flowering grass of various kinds,
make the whole bank beautiful."* Beautiful,
indeed ! Well might the lady of this painter of
Nature sing : —

"Hove the odorous hawthorn flower,

I love the wilding's bloom to see
I love the light anemonies
That tremble to the faintest breeze,
And hyacinth-like orchises

Are very dear to me.
," The star-wort is a fairy flower,

The violet is a thing to prize,
The wild pink on the craggy ledge,
The waving, sword-lik e water's-edge,
And e'en the Robin-run-i'-the-hedge,

Are precious in mine eyes."

* Rural Life in England.
16*

186 WltD FLOWERS.

And why are they precious?

"Less that they are so beautiful,
Than that they are so jtlentiful,
So free for every child to pull."

MARY HOWITT.

Herein the lady agrees with many others who
have written on this delightful subject ; as the
quotation at the head of our chapter well ex-
presses it, Wild Flowers are " the true Phi-
lanthropists of Nature ;" says another sweet
singer : —

"And then I love the Field Flowers, too,

Because they are a blessing given
E'en to the poorest little one,

Who wanders 'neath the vault of heaven ;
The garden flowers are reared by few,

And to that few belong alone ;
But flowers that spring by vale or stream,
Each one may claim them for hid own."

AXXE PRATT.

Besides their superior fragrance, to which we
shall presently make allusion, there is also
another reason named by this author, for her
love of Wild Flowers ; we will give it, not in her

WILD FLOWERS. 187

own words, but in those of a sister of song. It
is that they are fraught with, —

" Sweet memories of that blissful time,
Life's day-spring! lovelier than its prime,
When with the bird on summer morn,
That carolled earliest from the thorn,
I was awake, and singing too,
And gathering wild flowers wet with dew."

CAROLINE BOWLES.

A writer in the Quarterly Heview observes
thus : " One characteristic of our native plants
we must mention, that if we miss in them some-
thing of the gorgeousness and lustre of more
tropical flowers, we are more than compensated
by the delicacy and variety of their perfume ;
and just as our woods, vocal with the nightin-
gale, the blackbird, and the thrush, can well
spare the gaudy feathers of the macaw, so we
can consign the oncidiums, and cactuses, and
the impomaeas of the tropics, for the delicious
fragrance of our wild banks of violets, our lilies-
of-the-valley, our woodbine, or even the passing
whiff of a hawthorn bush, a clover or bean field,
or a gorse common." Yes we can well spare

188 WILD FLOWERS.

lhosc gaudy strangers, for the sweet and beau-
liful productions of our own woods and fields
possess, in themselves, all that the heart or the
imagination can require in a flower ; wandering
amid them we may say, with MILTON :—

" Xow gentle gales

Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense
Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole
These balmy spoils."

HELIOTROPE.
THERE is a flower whose modest eye

Is turned with looks of light and love,
Who breathes her softest, sweetest sigh

Whene'er the sun is bright above.

Let clouds obscure, or darkness veil,

Her fond idolatry is fled ;
Her sighs no more their sweets exhale,

The loving eye is cold and dead.

Canst thou not trace a moral here,

False flatterer of the prosperous hour ?

Let but an adverse cloud appear,
And thou art faithless as the flower.

WILD FLOWERS.

BT ANNE PRATT.

Why is it that I love the flowers

That grow in woods, and lanes, and fields,
Better than all the glowing ones

The richly cultured garden yields ?
Why is it that the daisy has

A charm for me, all flowers above ;
Or why the hawthorn's fragrant breath,

More than the myrtle's do I love ?

The cuckoo-flower and hyacinth,

These blossoms of each woodland wild, —
The primrose and anemone,

O, I have prized them from a child !
And still the odours lhat arise

From clusters of the wild woodbine,
Are sweeter, lovelier to me,

Than scent of Eastern jessamine.

189

190 WILD BLOWERS.

And yet the flowers I prize so much,

Than cultured flowers are not more sweet,
And they are withered sooner far,

Than those we in the garden meet
Their colours are not half so gay

As tints of flowers from far-off land,
From isle of Greece, or Indian grove,

Nurtured by man with careful hand.

But meadow flowers bring to my mind

The thoughts of pleasant days gone by,
When with my sisters, hand in hand,

We roamed beneath the summer sky ;
And twined a garland for our hats,

Of blossoms from each bush around,
And linked the daisies into chains,

And culled the cowslips from the ground.

And then I love the field flowers, too,
Because they are a blessing given

Ev'n to the poorest little one,

That wanders 'neath the vault of heaven ;

WILD FLOWERS. 191

The garden flowers are reared for few,
And to those few belong alone ;

But flowers that spring by vale or stream,
Each one may claim them for his own.

The rich parterre is walled around,

But meadow lands stretch far and wide
And we may gather lovely flowers

For miles along the river side ;
And far amidst the landscape wild,

Wander the scenes of beauty o'er,
Now lingering in the violet glen,

Now roaming on the thymy moor.

Or pause wfcere foam-like meadow queen

Scatters her blossoms on the lake,
Or where the Orchis blooms among

The lady-fern or feathery brake ;
Or sit beside the winding path

Bordered by ripening wheat or oat,
When on the gentle summer air

The poppy's crimson banners float.

192 WILD FLOWERS.

And O, I joy as Spring comes round,

Flinging her scent o'er glen and hill
For though I love the garden flo\vers

I love the wild buds better still.
Then let me stray into the fields,

Or seek the green wood's shady bowers,
Marking the beauties and the scents,

Of simple blossoms — sweet wild flowers.

DECISION OF THE FLOWER.

BY L. E. LANDON.

AND with scarlet poppies, around like a bower,
The maiden found her mystic flower
"Now, gentle flower, I pray thee tell
If my lover loves me, and loves me well :
So may the fall of the morning dew
Keep the sun from fading thy tender blue,
Now I number the leaves for my lot —
He loves not — he loves me — he loves me not —
He loves me — yes, thou last leaf, yes —
I'll pluck thee not for the last sweet guess !
He. loves me !" — " Yes," a dear voice sigh'd,
And her lover stands by Margaret's side.

THE WILD FLOWERS.

BY F. J. SMITH.

SWEET wilding tufts, that 'mid the waste,

Your lowly buds expand ;
Though by no sheltering walls embraced,

Nor trained by beauty's hand :
The primal flowers which grace your stems,

Bright as the dahlias shine,
Found thus, like unexpected gems,

To lonely hearts like mine.

'Tis a quaint thought, and yet, perchance,

Sweet blossoms, ye are sprung
From flowers that over Eden once

Their pristine fragrance flung ; —
That drank the dews of Paradise,

Beneath the starlight clear ;
Or caught from Eve's dejected eyes

Her first repentant tear.

17 193

A WILD FLOWER WREATH.

BY THE AUTHOR OF " NugCB SaCTO.

If stranger hands might dare
A wild-flower wreath prepare,
The sweet enthusiastic's hair,

Her flowing hair to hind —
Oh ! I would haste to bring
The violet of Spring,
"Whose odours scent the wing

Of every massing wind.

Each flower that early blows,
The May-bough's wreathed snows,
The wild-brier's folded rose,

And woodbine's fragrant bloom ;
The speedwell's eye of blue,
Suffused with morning dew,
Should smilingly glance through

The tresses of the broom.
394

A WILD FLOWER WREATH. 195

The rustic blushing heath,
That lurks the fern beneath,
Should grace our wilding wreath

With many a pendant bell ;
The fair anemone
Might well with these agree,
Reft from her sheltering tree,

Low in the copsewood dell.

No less the floweret pale,

The lily of the vale

That scents the roving gale,

Yet loves its leafy shade ;
And well my hand, I ween,
(If such my task had been,)
Could twine the myrtle green

To crown the mountain maid.

THE COWSLIP.

UNFOLDING to the breeze of May,
The Cowslip greets the vernal ray ;
The topaz and the ruby gem,
Her blossom's simple diadem ;
And, as the dew-drops gently fall,
They tip with pearls her coronal.

In princely halls and courts of kings
Its lustrous ray the diamond flings ;
.Yet few of those who see its beam,
Amid the torch-light's dazzling gleam.
As bright as though a meteor shone,
Can call the costly prize their own.

But gems of every form and hue
Are glittering here in morning dew ;
Jewels that all alike may share
As freely as the common air ;
No niggard hand, or jealous eye,
Protects them from the passer by.
196

COWSLIP. 197

Man to his brother shuts his heart,
And Science acts a miser's part ;
But Nature, with a liberal hand,
Flings wide her stores o'er sea and land
If gold she gives, not single grains
Are scatter'd far across the plains ;
But lo, the desert streams are roll'd
O'er precious beds of virgin gold.
If flowers she offers, wreaths are given,
As countless as the stars of heaven :
Or music — 'tis no feeble note
She bids along the valleys float ;
Ten thousand nameless melodies
In one full chorus swell the breeze.

Oh, art is but a scanty rill
That genial seasons scarcely fill.
But nature needs no tide's return
To fill afresh her flowing urn ;
She gathers all her rich supplies
Where never-failing waters rise.

17*

DAFFODILS.

FAIR Daffodils, we weep to see

You haste away so soon ;
As yet the early rising sun

Has not attained his noon :
Stay, stay

Until the hastening day
Has run

But to the even-song
And, having pray'd together, we

Will go with you along

We have short time to stay as ye,

We have as fleet a spring,
As quick a growth to meet decay

As you or any thing ;
We die

As your hours do, and dry
Away,

Like to the summer's rain,
Or as the pearls of morning's dew,

Ne'er to be found again.

198

THE VIOLETS' SPRING SONCL

BY L. A. TWAMLET.

UNDER the hedge all safe and warm,
Sheltered from boisterous wind and storm

We violets lie ;

With each small eye
Closely shut while the cold goes by.

You look at the bank, 'mid the biting frost,
And you sigh and say that we're dead and lost

But lady, stay

For a sunny day,
And you'll find us again alive and gay.

On mossy banks, under forest trees,
You'll find us crowding, in days like these ;

Purple and blue,

And white ones too,
Peep at the sun and wait for you.

By maids and matrons, by old and young,
By rich and poor our praise is sung;

199

200 THE VIOLKT'S SPRING SONO.

And the blind man sighs

When his sightless eyes
He turns to the spot where our perfumes rise.
There is not a garden the country through,
Where they plant not violets white and blue ;

By princely hall,

And cottage small —

For we're sought, and cherished, and culled by all.
Yet grand parterres, and stiff-trimmed beds,
But ill become our modest heads ;

We'd rather run,

In shadow and sun,

O'er the banks where our merry lives first begun.
There, where the birken bough's silvery shine
Gleams over the hawthorn and frail woodbine,

Moss, deep and green,

Lies thick, between

The plots where we violet-flowers are seen.
And the small gay Celandine's stars of gold
Rise sparkling beside our purple's fold : —

Such a regal show

Is rare, I trow,
Save on the banks were violets grow.

TO A ROSE.

SINCE king and shepherd own

Thee for the queen of flowers,
When thou art fully blown

In Summer-laughing hours ;
Since none partake thy throne ;

What need a Poet's powers
To make thy kingdom known,

Thou sovereign of the bowers ?

What need to rJaint the state

Of amber-haired Morn ?
Or the ripe Day relate,

Which is in ocean born ?
These all confess are great ;

And yet all tongues adorn —
Pure love cannot abate,

Nor duty be forborne.

201

202 TO A ROSE.

Thou flower of heavenly seed !

Emphatical delight !
Thou, in whose leaves we read

The soul of crimson light !
That married art, indeed,

And vow'd to Summer bright ;
And didst of Spring proceed ;

What tongue can paint thee right ?

Ere thou art born on earth,

The shepherds sing thy praise ;
The cities waken mirth,

In hope of flowery days :
Thou art the chiefest birth,

That swelling Nature pays,
To ransom Winter's dearth,

And Spring's unkind delays.

The pink and violet meet,
The jasmine dwells in thee,

The honey-suckle sweet,
The jacinth budding free ;

TO A E08E. 203

In thee what odors greet
The longing sense, agree ;

And reign in lovely heat —
As fountains in the sea.

Methinks thou hast a tongue

That answers me again,
With lovely Muses hung ;

(( O, waste not love in vain ;
But let HIS praise be sung,

Who bade me blush, and reign
O'er flowers ; by whom I sprung ;

The God of land and main !

« My life, I know, is brief ;

My crimson shall grow pale ;
And I shall shed my leaf,

And all my odors fail :
But this can breed no grief;

/ love, and shall prevail ;
And God shall give relief,

And raise me up from bale.

204 TO A ROSE.

"And what the Spring to me,

Prophetic, may appear,
Is heaven, O man, to thee,

An ever blooming year :
Where thou shall Angels see,

And their sweet harpings hear ;
If thou God's servant be,

And keep his counsel dear."

O preacher of the mead,

Thy sermon is diVine ;
And doth from God proceed,

Who cause thee thus to shine ;
O Rose, in crimson weed:

And may I make it mine ;
And thus be learn'd indeed,

When sun and stars decline I

THE ALPINE VIOLET

BY BYRON.

THE spring is come, the violet's gone,
The first-born child of the early sun ;
With us she is but a winter flower,
The snow on the hills cannot blast her bower,
And she lifts up her dewy eye of blue,
To the youngest sky of the self-same hue.

But when the spring comes with her host
Of flowers, that flower, beloved the most,
Shrinks from the crowd, that may confuse
Her heavenly odors and virgin hues.

Pluck the others, but still remember
Their herald out of dire December;
The morning star of all the flowers,
The pledge of daylight's lengthened hours ;
And 'mid the roses ne'er forget
The virgin, virgin violet.

18 205

THE ENCHANTED PLANTS.

FABLES IN TERSE.

BY MADAM M 0 X T 0 L I K 17 .

INTRODUCTION.

OFT to beguile the sultry hours,
In thought I've animated flowers,

Enlivening every walk ;
And though no botanist professed,
Their reasoning powers have shrewdly guessed,

And longed to hear them talk.

It chanced one lovely day in June,
Just at the madding time of moon,

I spoke this wish aloud ;
When from a Pansy, with surprise,
I saw a gradual mist arise,

And form a silvery cloud.
206

THE ENCHANTED PLANTS. 207

Forth from the glittering veil, behold,
In insect trappings, green and gold,

A faery figure sprung,
Her wand a cowslip's stamen seemed,
And on her head like diamonds beamed

A casque with dew-drops hung.

Her silken pinions as she flew,
Seemed by their size and purple nue,

Spoils of the flowers she left :
She soared aloft and touched mine ear,
While I, half pleased, half dead with fear,

Remained of speech bereft.

Then first a small, melodious tone,
Before to mortal wight unknown,

Struck my enraptured sense ;
« Flora," it murmured, « grants thy prayer,
Long have her treasures been thy care,

Receive thy recompense."

This said, she vanished from my sight,
And since, with ever new delight,
I tend my fragrant hoards ;

208 THE ENCHANTED PLANTS.

No solitude exists for me,
Since every flower and shrub and tree,
Society affords.

GRUMBLING.

ONE day, when winter ruled the skies,

I, shivering by the flame,
Heard a strange hurly-burly rise,

A.nd wondered whence it came

Spite of the season's biting gales,
I traced the uncommon sound,

And found four plants/in snowy veils,
Muttering on gifted ground.

A Crocus bright peeped forth alone,
The rest lay snug concealed,

Till each, with discontented tone,
Her name and woes revealed.

THE ENCHANTED PLANTS. 209

To Flora were their vows addressed,
N In supplicating mood ;
The Crocus first her plaints expressed,
And thus her grievance stood.

" Oh, Flora, cruel mother ! say,

Why suckle me with snow ?
And, why not let thy Crocus stay

Till rival beauties blow ?

" In spring, when every shrub and flower

Rejoices in the sun,
Like babe entombed at early hour,

My shivering race is run.

" Let me but once, among the gay,

My place with rapture find ;
Once hail the balmy breath of May,

Thenceforward I'm resigned."

She ceased ; another plaintive moan
Arose from neighbouring root ;

The modest Violet, wayward grown,
Presumed to urge her suit.
18*

210 THE ENCHANTED V LA NTS.

" Oh, hear a timid suppliant's prayer,

Nymph of the blushing hours,
Incline, and rescue from despair,

The most forlorn of Flowers !

" Fair am I formed, and sweet 'tis true,
Thy favourite blue-eyed maid ;

Each spring am fed with pearly dew,
But cloistered in the shade.

" Were I exalted on my stem

By solar beams inspired ;
What Pink, what Rose, what fragrant gem,

Like me would be admired ?"

" How," cried, with royal pride, the Rose,

(Betrayed by her petition,
Or else what mortal could suppose

She liked not her condition ?)

(t Shall such mean reptiles dare complain,

Sweet ruler of the year !
While I, thy vice-queen, crowned in vain,

Here shed the silent tear ?

I

THE ENCHANTED PLANTS. 211

" Though bright my tints, perfumed my breath,

Though cherished by the fair,
Though when I fade, even after death,

My virtues honored are :

(( Yet in my season, numerous powers

Approach too near the throne ;
The embroidered garden, rich with flowers,

Scarce will my empire own.

t( If blushing to thy court I came,

When autumn rules the day,
Then should I sovereign homage claim,

And hold despotic sway."

" Despotic sway, indeed !" replied

The image of the sun ;
{t In June rejoice to curb thy pride,

My reign is not begun.

" Though native of a distant clime,

No British bloom I boast ;
Yet know, proud plant ! my form sublime,

Eclipses all thine host.

212 THE ENCHANTED PLANTS.

« Goddess ! in radiant glories dressed,

Let me henceforth appear,
By summer's brightest beams caressed,

Nor wait the closing year."

" Ungrateful tribe !" — with angry pause,
The indignant Goddess cries,

" Not in the season's wholesome laws,
Your cause of grievance lies.

f< Spoiled by prosperity, ye pine,

Like many a pampered fair ;
But wo to all, should I incline,

And grant to each her prayer.

(f So nicely are your hours arranged,

To every season linked,
That Nature's laws one moment changed,

Your race would be extinct."

She spoke ; then bade the blast arise,

Her message to convey ;
Boreas, swift rushing through the skies,

Swept all their sighs away.

THE ENCHANTED PLANTS. 213

FABLE II.

SCANDAL,

OR THE PAINTED LADT SWEET-PEA.

GAT Anemone, daughter of Ar

(Her ancestors sprung from the wood)

To Ranunculus, friend of her heart,
Chattered scandal as fast as she could.

One evening the subject she chose,

Was peculiarly painful to me ;
For my favourite next to the Rose,

Is the pink-and- white sweet-scented Pea.

" Look there !" said the fanciful flower,
(By whimsical botanists dressed)

{t How yon vain youthful plant of an hour,
Smiles and flaunts like a beauty professed.

" Though with us in the garden displayed,
Unimproved her corollas remain,

Still blushing, unformed, unarrayed,

Like her cousins who bask on the plain."

214 THE ENCHANTED PLANTS.

" How blushing !" her friend, sneering, cries,
t( The old Daffodil whispered last night,

And you know on those subjects she's wise,
That this inrrocent paints red and white.

" While her exquisite honeyed perfume
For which the bees teaze her to death,

They have found too, and so I presume,
Is fictitious to cover her breath.

(f Then to see how she flirts with them all,
How she aims in a nosegay to shine

And because she is painted and tall,
Conceits herself blooming and fine."

A Sweet- William, concealed in the shade,
Who their kind observations had heard,

Much loving the bright-bosomed maid,
Thought it high time to put in a word.

(i Fine ladies, your eloquence spare,

Oh, spare it, in pity to me !
Or my heart is quite lost to the fair,

Supremely fair, sweet-scented Pea.

THE ENCHANTED PLANTS. 215

« For envy alone could suggest

The rank malice that fell from your tongue,
And your censures completely expressed,

That she's innocent, lovely, and young.

" Pink and silver, like midsummer skies,
Is it thence you her blushes defame,

That, amazed at her own brilliant dyes,
Nature once stooped to Art for a name !

"By thus over-shooting the mark,
Poor ill-nature defeats her own end ;

As a glow-worm's more bright in the dark,
You're but foils to my beautiful friend ;

" Doomed malicious old virgins to fade,

Whom multiplied petals deform,
While she her soft banner displayed,

Soon will shelter her fruit from the storm."

The ladies felt something like shame,
And indignant were ready to cry,

They e'en vowed no more beauties to blame-
That is — when Sweet-William is by.

216 THK ENCHANTED PLANTS.

FABLE III.
DESPAIR.

LIST, maidens, in this witching hour,
How a charmed Hare-bell loved a swain

Yclep'd the shepherd of the bower,
Who cared not for her pain.

Yet he, forsooth, was kind and good,
And he wooed Geraldine the fair,

And gathered garlands in the wood
To deck her golden hair.

He culled the wild Rose wet with dew,
He culled the Lily of the vale,

And Eglantine, and Violet blue,
Sweet May, and Primrose pale.

And eke this small bell, mid the grass,
His eye exploring oft would meet —

And yet he stooped not, for alas !
She breathed no tempting sweet.

THE ENCHANTED PLANTS. 217

« Oh !" then, in pleading strain, cried she,
" Too lovely shepherd of the bower !

Would that I were, till plucked by thee,
The green wood's sweetest flower.

" And fading, on thy gentle breast

One happy, happy moment lie,
Once to thy heart be fondly pressed,

And then, rejoicing, die."

One luckless morn this lover flew
O'er dells and dingles to the grove,

To greet with flowrets bathed in dew
The birth-day of his love.

Alas ! he flew with careless speed,
For he right gladsome was and young,

And crushed the Hare-bell of the mead,
Who thus her death-lay sungj

tl O, shepherd, so beloved by me

My early doom I joyous meet,
Too happy, since disdained by thee,

To perish at thy feet."
19

J

218 THE ENCHANTED PLANTS.

Damsels, profit by my story,

Thus in unfashioned phrase rehearsed,
Prize your peace, and maiden glory,

Nor love who loves not first.

FABLE IT.

SENSIBILITY.

FEELING ! by words so ill defined,

So lovely in an honest mind,

How art thou grown in fashion's schools,

The mask of vice, the cant of fools.

How oft impatience, temper's storm,
For sanction grasps thy glowing form !
How affectation, beauty's shame,
And weaknes^ prostitute thy name !

How oft, by songs and novels taught,
They who ne'er knew one generous thought
Their sensibilities reveal,
Sacred to such as truly feel.

THB ENCHANTED PLANTS. 219

She who the orphan's tear neglects,
Flavia, the tragic muse affects,
In sorrow with the heroine vies —
Does Flavia feel, because she cries !

While love-lorn nymphs, whom vows deceive
Unmoved, their roof paternal leave ;
Passion for sentiment mistake,
And doom a parent's heart to break.

My fancy, wandering, uncontrolled,
Once to the river's side I strolled,
When to my mind these thoughts occurred,
Wakened by plaintive sounds I heard.

The breeze was gentle as my theme,
And Cynthia mild as poet's dream ;
And hushed was every leafy spray,
Save the sad subject of my lay.

A Willow, bending o'er the flood,
Her leaves just starting from the bud,
Like bird of night, I heard complain,
In moping melancholy strain.

220 THE ENCHANTED PLANTS.

<* Ah, nature ! why, when all is gay,
Or resting from the toils of day,
Why is my waking soul the shrine
Of sense so exquisitely fine ?

l( If but a sunbeam strikes too warm,
How faint my undulating form !
The most dispirited of trees,
If hollow sounds the evening breeze.

" When cloudy yon blue vault appears,
Instant I droop, dissolved in tears ;
If but a Poplar frowns in scorn,
I sorrow that I e'er was born."

While thus she mourned, she sobbed aloud,
And to the stream her branches bowed ;
I gazed ; and still she wept and sighed,
Yet seemed to feel a secret pride.

An Alder, by her plaints awoke,
Thus in reproachful accents spoke,
"Why, Willow, why these vigils keep,
And break the sacred hour of sleep ?

TI1K K-XOH ANTED PLANTS. 221

<{ Why still deem Nature's laws perverse,
Who make her choicest gifts a curse ?
Feeling, whose shrine thy tears profane
Is not the eternal nurse of pain.

" When rain and tempest rule the hours,
How sympathize the plants and flowers ?
The sun once more revives the plain,
They laugh with hope and joy again.

'* Mark pleasure's fascinating wiles,
And beauty's heart-illumined smiles ;
The eye's quick glancing rapture tells,
Unquestioned, where the angel dwells.

" Where points the moon-beam, dost thou see,
Near yon gray stone, a lofty tree ?
The Cypress, mourner of the grove,
Placed by the hand of widowed love ?

<( His grief with dignity he bears,
A dark and settled sorrow wears ;
Affects no attitudes of wo,
And scorns one trivial tear should flow.
19*

222 THE ENCHANTED PLANTS.

" The genuine anguish of the heart,
Nor tears, nor sobs, nor groans impart
But like this deep and silent wave,
Steals without murmur to the grave.

*' To him, who pines with grief sincere,
Like dreams of heavenly bliss appear,
The fancied evils you deplore — "
She paused — the Willow wept the more.

FABLE V.

CONTENTION.

A CHESTNUT-TREE laden with bloom,

A Laburnum with boughs dropping gold,

A Hyacinth breathing perfume,
.One Spring morning proceeded to scold.

The cause of the quarrel averred,
Was a doubt in an ill-fated hour,

Which for beauty, by man is preferred,
The Tree, or the Shrub, or the Flower.

THE ENCHANTED PLANTS. 223

The Flower, as a Lady spoke first

And (illiberal Satire says) most,
Sweets, garlands, charms, emblems rehearsed,

And made lovers, and sonnets, her boast.

But this was so common a ditty,

And the shrub held her merits so cheap,

That he swore she was pretty and witty,
And besought her her counsel to keep.

"Thy delights," added he, " are confessed.
Truly nature has made thy race fair,

But thy beauties by monarchs caressed,
Thy favors e'en cottagers share.

"We shrubs of a lineage refined,
Ne'er stoop with plebeians to bloom,

Though Syringas, of ignoble kind,
By chance may the village perfume.

" So graceful our flexible arms,

Such fragrance our blossoms exhale,

That e'en forest-trees envy our charms,
And parterres with vexation turn pale."

224 THE ENCHANTED PLANTS.

The Chestnut, indignant and proud,
Frowned, as if he both parties despised,

And shaking his branches aloud,

In few words his pretensions comprised.

« Sweet Flowret," (he flattered the sex)
" I perceive my protection's required,

And lament yonder coxcomb should vex
You, made to be loved and admired.

tf But no wonder he triumphs o'er you,
Who ventures with Oaks to compare,

They whose might Britain's enemies rue,
Who the glory of conquerors share.

" Let fops ring their own empty praises,

Who true insignificance feel,
Self-boasting but ridicule raises,

Our merits let others reveal."

The furious Laburnum replied,

The Chestnut retorted again,
The flower with the strongest took side,

Yet endeavored their rage to restrain.

THE ENCHANTED PLANTS. 225

But why to curb anger aspire ?

'Tis a torrent that roars in the mind ;
As easy to reign in the fire,

Or check the wild gusts of the wind.

Each grew so outrageous at last,
Such unparalleled insults occurred

And they all talked together so fast,

That I scarce could distinguish one word.

So fearing that breakfast might wait,
And conscious no blood could ensue,

I left them to end the debate,

And came home to relate it to you.

FABLE VI.

LOVE.

FANCY not, men, who read my page
That only care and spleen Qngage

The blooming tribes I sing ;
No — they enjoy the world like you,
Make love, feed, sleep, and quaff the dew,

And frolic in the spring.

226 THE ENCHANTED PLANTS.

Like mortals, too, of various taste,

Some plants are frail, and some are chaste,

Some with affection blessed ;
The Hedysarum loves the sun,
Coquets it till his race is run,

Then nods, and sinks to rest.

While the Mimosa, modest maid,
Even at the zephyr's breath dismayed,

The virgin's fear portrays;
And Lupins, whom their buds delight,
Who shield them from the damps of night,

Deserve a mother's praise.

But scandal says (what won't she say ?)
That every flower and plant is gay,

By nature's precepts trained ;
But lest my muse censorious prove,
I only sing their mortal love,

Too pure to be arraigned.

At six, one balmy summer morn,
To hail June's perfumes newly born,
I through the shrubbery strayed

THE ENCHANTED PLANTS. I'll

When from the myriads all around,
The accustomed soft and silvery sound,
Rose murmuring through the shade

But chiefly I inclined my ear,
A curious dialogue to hear

Between two amorous flowers ;
What woman but had done the same ?
For each was talking of his flame,

Just as we talk of ours.

" Let Tulip hear, and judge our cause,
And we be guided by his laws,"

A gallant Larkspur cried :
"Done," cried a Pink, with double crest,
" Which of us Silvia loves the best,

Let Tulip now decide."

LARKSrCE.

When Silvia, goddess of the groves,
Enchanted through her garden roves,
Soon as my tints she spies,

228 THB ENCHANTED PLANTS.

With what delight she stops to gaze,
Soft as descending dews her praise,
Bright as the sun her eyes.

PINK.

When Silvia, by the breeze caressed,
Herself the queen of flowers confessed,

Appears, eclipsed they pine,
For me she oft the Rose resigns,
And sighing o'er my form inclines,

Her breath more sweet than mine.

LARKSPUR.

Behold this spot, how large a space
She yields to us, her favourite race,

Placed here in crowded ranks ;
Armed with our spurs, I heard her swear,
" None but the brave deserved the fair ;"

I blushed, and bowed my thanks.

Just now our variegated hue,
And rich corollas hung with dew.
Attracted Silvia's eye,

THE ENCHANTED PLANTS. 229

She placed the loveliest on her breast,
And in a basket heaped the rest, —
By chance she passed me by.

" Enough, enough !" Sir Tulip cries,

(( Be wise, brave Larkspur, yield the prize ;

A word before we part ;
Value not what a lady says,
Whom her words slight, or whom they praise,

Her actions speak her heart."

THE WALL -FLOWER.

BY WALTER SCOTT.

AND well the lonely infant knew
Recesses where the wall-flower grew,
And honey-suckle loved to crawl
Up the low crag and ruin'd wall ;
I deem'd such nooks the sweetest shade,
The sun in all his round surveyed,
And still I thought that shattered tower,
The mightiest work of human power.
20

TEMPTATION.

A FLOHAIi FABLE.

"WHY, flower celestial blue, oh, tell,

Why droops thy silken head ;
Why scarce unfolded hangs thy bell.
Why are those dew-drops shed ?

tf Has the east blighting nipped thy buds,

Have the slugs pierced thy leaves,
Have the hot sun-beams drank the floods,
Campanula thus grieves ?

" Say, on this dew-bespangled lawn,

Encircling our abode,
Which mingling trees and shrubs adorn,
With fragrant blossoms strewd.
230

TEMPTATION. liol

***f*^***r*^>svi^f<^*~*r*f><^r*ts*s*s^>^^

" Watered and sheltered from thy birth,

Beneath the Acacia bough,
Placed on this chosen spot of earth,
What flower so blessed as thou ?"

Thus a bright Lupin, in the grove,

Kind as a summer-shower,
'To sooth, in gentle accents strove,

A melancholy flower.

" Ah, wo is me !" with mournful voice,

I heard the plaint reply,
" Ne'er shall Convolvulus rejoice,

Here doomed to pine and die.

" The sun was scarcely set last night,

My bells began to close,
When, to my half-discerning sight,
A lovely vision rose.

" How shall my artless speech describe

The glories of its form ?
It seemed of that aerial tribe,
Which here at noontide swarm.

232 TEMPTATION.

« From yonder brake on rainbow wing,

It soared with solemn flight,
Two wings were pale as leaves in spring,
Two like the poppy bright.

" f Sweet flower ! Oh ! sweeter far,' it said,
< Than Musk-rose of the dale ;
Sweeter than Furze, or Thymy bed,
On Orange-scented gale !

tf l At early dawn, thy sapphire brood

I passed (to roving given)
And thought, in glassy wave, I viewed
The smiling face of heaven.

(i ( So beauteous, why stay here and sigh ?

Oh, grant thy lover's prayer !
With us gay wanderers of the sky,
Come float in fields of air.*

" Then with a pure etherial kiss,
It press'd my leaves and fled ;
I sigh for liberty and bliss,
Fix'd to my earthy bed."

TEMPTATION. 233

" Oh, shame !" said Lupin, " shame to grieve,

Beware the tempter's theme
Thus fell the flower of Eden, Eve,
Deluded by a dream.

(( Yon sun-born tribes, like man, may range.

With stronger wills impressed,
But shall the wild desire of change,
Infect thy gentler breast ?

" They who o'er hill, and dale and flood,

A thousand perils brave,
Oft welter in the field of blood,
Or perish in the wave.

« We, happier far, their pleasure share,

Happier in death, our doom,
Fade in the garlands of the fair,
Or strew the hero's tomb.

»f Then, oh '. beware the flatterer's speech,

Thy favored station keep"

But long ere Lupin ceased to preach,
The Flowret fell asleep.
20*

VULGARITY,

FLOBAl FABLE.

ONE August morn, before the sun
Had reached his glorious height,

What time, ere harvest is begun,
The corn-fields most delight.

Snug by a hedge, o'erhung with trees,
Where blades less numerous grew,

A nest of Poppies, placed at ease,
Conversed with Bottles blue.

1 1 wonder much," with rustic grace,

A Poppy thus began,
tf Why our mild inoffensive race
Is so despised by man.
234

VCLGARITT. 235

" The farmer, in whose fields we're found,

Rejects us with disgrace,
And looks on Poppies in his ground,

As pimples in his face.

(l Man too, of strange, perverted taste,

Miscalls our potent sweets ;
Yet leeks are mid his dainties placed,

And onions crown his treats.

"The same high parentage we claim

With oriental plants,
And near relations, bear his name,

Who in the garden flaunts.

"Owned to hy soporific powers,
Who share the doctor's pride,

Connected with physician flowers,
To science we're allied.

"How bright, mid universal green,

Our scarlet host appears,
Not in more splendid garb are seen,

St. James' Volunteers.

236 VULQAKITY.

« And we, a mild cerulean fair,"

A Blue-bottle replies,
« Though less conspicuous, proudly wear

The livery of the skies.

" From Switzerland's romantic heights,

Sprung our exotic race,
Who now this gentle soil delights,

Who British gardens grace.

t( Let Roses still in hackneyed strain,

With Celia's Lilies blend,
To blue-eyed Marian's sighing swain,

Our tints new flatteries lend.

<* While clowns, those tasteless sons of gain,

Contemn the painted meads,
On profits bent, our charms disdain,

And scoffing call us Weeds.

"Amid the blades that glittered round,

One loftier than the rest,
With four-fold spiky honors crowned,

The motley throng addressed.

VtTLQABITY. 237

" ' Ye vulgar flowers,' (she seemed to frown)

i Who our bright limits share,
Intruders (as at routs in town

Queer country neighbors are.)

« ( Where industry profusion yields,

How dare ye creep so near ?
Go, lurk in cold neglected fields ;

No gipsies harbor here.

te e Blasting the boon, to toil assigned,

111 omened plants ye blow,
Ceres, indignant, hates your kind,

Nor prospers where ye grow.' ''

She spoke ; — when lo ! a hostile troop

The reaper band appears ;
The trembling flowers began to droop —

The Wheat to shake her ears.

Alas ! they chose that very morn

To scatter death around,
And Poppies, Blue-bottles, and Corn,

Were levelled with the ground.

VANITY.

A LILAC, Flora's darling child,
The shrubbery's early pride,

In magic accents sweetly wild,
With exultation cried,

"Avaunt from me, ye tardy flowers

That grovel near the ground,
Compelled to wait for sultry hours,
In verdant fetters bound !

(( "While I, precursor oft of May,

In orient splendor dressed,
Make the cold face of nature gay,

Her first-born most caressed.

{i Warm with benevolence, I bloom,
Pride of the embowering shade,

Or pluck'd, the gorgeous dome perfume
Or deck yon matchless maid.
238

VANITY. 239

"Not even the queen of shrubs, the Rose,

Can double gifts bestow,
Useless her humble foliage blows,

Though bright her petals glow."

This uttered with triumphant mien,
Her light leaves swelled with pride ;

Child of the valley, mild, serene,
The Lily thus replied :

«( Vain blossom, gem of transient doom
Whence thy presumptuous boast ?

That mid Spring's yet unripened bloom,
Thy charms are courted most.

" True, nature fixed with care divine

Mid opening buds thy reign ;
What place to thee could June assign

Amid her thronging train ?

" Where trees in full luxuriance grow,

How vain thy boasted shade !
Where in bright ranks Carnations blow,

How would thy faint hues fade !

240

« By Julia are thy sweets confessed,
Soft mingling with the gale ;

But place thee on her snowy breast,
How soon thy odors fail.

" Fair mid her leaves, thy sister see

In virgin tints attired,
She dwells not on her charms, like thee,

Yet, is she less admired ?"

Abashed her purple blushes fled,

The pride of summer came,
And Lilacs numbered with the dead,

No more our shepherds name.

JN THE ROSE.

BY SIR H. WOTTON.

YE violets, that first appear,
By your pure purple mantle known,
Like the proud virgins of the year,
As if the spring were all your own —
What are ye when the Rose is blown ?

SONGS AND CHORUS OF THE FLOWERS.

B T LEIOH HUNT.

ROSES.

WE are blushing roses,
Bending with our fulness,

'Midst our close-capp'd sister buds
Warming the green coolness.

Whatsoe'er of beauty

Yearns and yet reposes,
Blush, and bosom, and sweet breath,

Took a shape in roses.

Hold one of us lightly —

See from what a slender
Stalk we bower in heavy blooms,

And roundness rich and tender :
21 241

242 SONGS AKD CHORUS OF THE FLOWERS.

Know you not our only
Rival flower — the human ?

Loveliest weight on lightest foot,
Joy-abundant woman ?

WE are lilies fair,

The flower of virgin light ;
Nature held us forth, and said,

(t Lo ! my thoughts of white."'

Ever since then, angels

Hold us in their hands ;
You may see them where they take

In pictures their sweet stands.

Like the garden's angels

Also do we seem ;
And not the less for being crown'd

With a golden dream.

Could you see around us

The enamour'd air,
You would see it pale with bliss

To hold a thing so fair.

BONGS AND CHORUS OF THE FLOWERS, 243

****** N~N~~N*S^N~^*~ — **^s^*s~ — ^^^^N^^^^S^^,

POPPIES.

WE are slumbering poppies,

Lords of Lethe downs,
Some awake, and some asleep,

Sleeping in our crowns.
What perchance our dreams may know,
Let our serious beauty show.

Central depth of purple,

Leaves more bright than rose —
Who shall tell what brightest thought

Out of darkest grows ?
Who, through what funereal pain,
Souls to love and peace attain ?

Visions aye are on us,

Unto eyes of power;
Pluto's always-setting sun,

And Proserpine's bower :
There, like bees, the pale souls come
For our drink, with drowsy hum.

Taste, ye mortals, also ;

MiJky-hearted, we ; —
Taste, but with a reverent care ;

Active-patient be.

244 SONGS AND CHORUS OF THE FLOWERS.

Too much gladness brings to gloom
Those who on the gods presume.

WE are the sweet flowers,
Born of sunny showers,
(Think, whene'er you see us, what our beauty

saith ;)

Utterance, mute and bright,
Of some unknown delight,
We fill the air with pleasure, by our simple

breath :

All who see us love us —
We befit all places :

Unto sorrow we give smiles — and unto graces,
races.

Mark our ways, how noiseless
All, and sweetly voiceless,
Though the March-winds pipe, to make our

passage clear ;
Not a whisper tells
Where our small seed dwells,
Nor is known the moment green, when our tips
appear.

SONOS AND CHORUS OF THE FLOWERS. 245

We thread the earth in silence,
In silence build our bowers —
And leaf by leaf in silence show, till we laugh

a-top, sweet flowers.
The dear lumpish baby,
Humming with the May-bee,
Hails us with his bright star, stumbling through

the grass ;

The honey-dropping moon,
On a night in June,
Kisses our pale pathway leaves, that felt the

bridegroom pass.
Age, the wither' d clinger,
On us mutely gazes,
And wraps the thought of his last bed in his

childhood's daisies.
See (and scorn all duller
Taste) how heav'n loves color ;
How great Nature, clearly, joys in red and

green ; —

What sweet thoughts she thinks
Of violets and pinks,

And a thousand flushing hues, made solely to
be seen : "
21*

246 SONGS AXD CHOEUS OF THE FLOWERS.

See her whitest lilies
Chill the silver showers,

And what a red mouth is her rose, the woman
of her flowers.

Uselessness divinest,

Of a use the finest,
Painteth us, the teachers of the end of use ;

Travellers, weary-eyed,

Bless us, far and wide ;

Unto sick and prison'd thoughts we give sudden
truce :

Not a poor town window

Loves its sickliest planting,
But its wall speaks loftier truth than Babylonian
vaunting.

Sagest yet the uses,

Mix'd with our sweet juices,

Whether man or May-fly, profit of the balm,
As fair fingers heal'd
Knights from the olden field

We hold cups of mightiest force to give the
wildest calm. N

80NQ9 AND CHOBC3 OF THE FLOWERS. 247

Ey'n the terror, poison,
Hath its plea for blooming ;
Life it gives to reverent lips, though death to
the presuming.

And oh ! our sweet soul-taker,

That thief, the honey-maker,
What a house hath he, by the thymy glen !

In his talking rooms

How the feasting fumes,
Till the gold cups overflow to the mouths of men !

The butterflies come aping

Those fine thieves of ours,
And flutter round our rifled tops, like tickled
flowers with flowers.

See those tops, how beauteous !

What fair service duteous
Round some idol waits, as on their lord the Nine

Elfin court 'twould seem ;

And taught, perchance, that dream
Which the old Greek mountain dreamt, upon
nights divine.

I

248 SONGS ASO CHOBCS OP THE FLOWZE8.

To expound such wonder
Human speech avails not ;
Yet there dies no poorest weed, that such a
glory exhales not.

Think of all these treasures
Matchless works and pleasures,

Every one a marvel, more than thought can say,
Then think in what bright showers
We thicken fields and bowers,

And with what heaps of sweetness half stifle

wanton May :
Think of the mossy forests
By the bee-birds haunted,

And all those Amazonian plains, lone lying as
enchanted.

Trees themselves are ours ;
Fruits are born of flowers ;
Peach, and roughest nut, were blossoms in the

spring :

The lusty bee knows well
The news, and comes pell-mell,
And dances in the gloomy thicks with darksome
antheming.

SONGS ASD CHOUCS OF THE FLOWERS. 2 ID

Beneath the very burthen
Of planet-pressing ocean,

We wash our smilingcheeksin peace — a thought
for meek devotion.

Tears of Phffibus — missings

Of Cytherea's kissings,

Have in us been found, and wise men find them
still;

Drooping grace unfurls

Still Hyacinthus' curls,
And Narcissus loves himself in the selfish rill :

Thy red lip, Adonis,

Still is wet with morning ;
And the step, that bled for thee, the rosy brier
adorning.

O ! true things are fables,
Fit for sagest tables,
And the flowers are true things — yet no fables

they;

Fables were not more
Bright, nor loved of yore —
Yet they grew not, like the flowers, by every
old pathway :

250 SOXOS AXD CHOBUS OF THE FLOWEBS.

Grossest hand can test us ,
Fools may prize us never: —
Yet we rise, and rise, and rise — marvels sweet
for ever.

Who shall say that flowers
Dress not heaven's own bowers !

Who its love, without us, can fancy — or sweet

floor?

Who shall even dare
To say we sprang not there —

And came not down that Love might bring one

, piece of heaven the more ?

O ! pray believe that angels
From those blue dominions,

Brought us in their white laps down, 'twixt their
golden pinions.

THE LAY OF THE ROSE.

BT ELIZABETH B. BARBETT.

" Discordance that can accord ;
And accordance to discord."

The Komaunt of the Rote.

A ROSE once pass'd within

A garden, April-green,
In her Joneness, in her loneness,
And the fairer for that oneness.

A white rose, delicate,

On a tall bough and straight,
Early comer, April comer,
Never waiting for the summer;

Whose pretty gestes did win

South winds to let her in,
In her loneness, in her loneness ;
Ail the fairer for that oneness.

251

252 LAY OF THE ROSE.

" For if I wait," said she,

" Till times for roses be,
For the musk rose, and the moss rose,
Royal red and maiden blush rose,

" What glory then for me,

In such a company?
Roses plenty, roses plenty,
And one nightingale for twenty !

" Nay, let me in," said she,

" Before the rest are free,
In my loneness, in my loneness,
All the fairer for that oneness.

(i For I would lonely stand,

Uplifting my white hand,
On a mission, on a mission,
To declare the coming vision.

(( See mine, a holy heart,

To high ends set apart,< —
All unmated, all unmated,
Because so consecrated,

I A Y OP THE ROSE. 253

" Upon which lifted sign,
What worship will be mine !
What addressing, what caressing,
What thanks, and praise and blessing !

"A windMike joy will rush
Through every tree and bush,
Bending softly in affection,

And spontaneous benediction.
i

" Insects, that only may

Live in a sunbright ray,
To my whiteness, to my whiteness
Shall be drawn, as to a brightness.

f( And every moth and bee

Shall near me reverently,
Wheeling round me, wheeling o'er me
Coronals of motioned glory.

f( I ween the very skies
Will look down in surprise,
When low on earth they see me,
With my cloudy aspect dreamy.
22

254 LAY OF THE ROSE.

» E'en nightingales shall flee
Their woods for love of me,
Singing sadly all the suntide,
Never waiting for the moontide !

" Three larks shall leave a cloud,
To my whiter beauty vow'd,
Singing gladly all the moontide,
Never waiting for the suntide

So praying did she win
South winds to let her in,
In her loneness, in her lonenes*
And the fairer for that oneness.

But out, alas, for her !

No thing did minister
To her praises, to her praises,
More than might unto a daisy's.

No tree nor bush was seen
To boast a perfect green,
Scarcely having, scarcely having
One leaf broad enow for waving.

LAY OF THE K 0 S E. 255

The little flics did crawl

Along the southern wall,
Faintly shifting, faintly shifting
Wings scarce strong enow for lifting.

The nightingale did please

To loiter beyond seas,
Guess him in the happy islands,
Hearing music from the silence.

The lark too high or low,

Did haply miss her so —
With his crest down in the gorses,
And his song in the star-courses !

Only the bee, forsooth,

Came in the place of both —
Doing honour, doing honour,
To the honey-dews upon her.

The skies look'd coldly down

As on a royal crown ;
Then, drop by drop, at leisure,
Began to rain for pleasure.

256 LAY OF THE ROSE.

Whereat the earth did seem

To waken from a dream,
Winter frozen, winter frozen,
Her anguish eyes unclosing.

Said to the rose, " Ha, Snow !

And art thou fallen so ?
Thou who wert enthroned stately
Along my mountains lately.

•e Holla, thou world-wide snow

And art thou wasted so ?
With a little bough to catch thee
And a little bee to watch thee ?"

Poor rose, to be misknown !

Would she had ne'er been blown,
In her loneness, in her loneness,
All the the sadder for that oneness.

v

Some words she tried to say,

Some sigh — ah, well away !
But the passion did o'ercome her,
And the fair frail leaves dropp'd from her.

LAY OF THE EOSE. 257

Dropp'd from her, fair and mute,

Close to a poet's foot,
Who beheld them, smiling lowly,
As at something sad and holy ;

Said, " Verily and thus,

So chanceth e'er with us,
Poets, ringing sweetest snatches,
While deaf did men keep the watches

" Saunting to come before

Our own age evermore,
In a loneness, in a loneness,
And the nobler for that oneness

" But if alone we be

Where is our empiry ?
And if none can reach our stature
Who will mate our lofty nature ?

" What bell will yield a tone

Saving in the air alone ?
If no brazen clapper bringing,
Who can bear the chimed ringing
22*

258 LAY OF THE BOSE.

" What angel but would seem

To sensual eyes glent-dim ?
Arid without assimilation,
Vain is interpenetration !

"Alas ! what can we do,

The rose and poet too,
Who both antedate our mission
In an unprepared season ?

< Drop leaf — be silent song —

Cold things we came among !
We must warm them, we must warm them
Ere we even hope to charm them.

" Howbeit," here his face

Highten'd around the place,
So to mark the outward turning
Of his spirit's inward burning.

" Something it is to hold

In God's worlds manifold.
First reveal'd to creatures duty,
A new form of His mild beauty.

L

LAY OF THE H08B. 259

" Whether that form respect

The sense or intellect,
Holy rest in soul or pleasance,
The chief Beauty's sign of presence.

« Holy in me and thee,

Rose fallen from the tree,
Though the world stand dumb around us
All unable to expound us.

Though none us deign to bless,
Blessed are we natheless ;
Blessed age and consecrated
In that, Rose, we were created !

" Oh, shame to poet's lays,

Sung for the dole of praise —
Hoarsely sung upon the highway,
With an ' obolum da mihi /'

" Shame ! shame to poet's soul,

Pining for such a dole,
When heaven-called to inherit
The high throne of his own spirit !

260 LAY OF THE KOSB.

" Sit still upon your thrones,

O ye poetic ones !
And if, sooth, the world decry you,
Why, let that world pass by you !

" Ye to yourselves suffice,

Without its flatteries ;
Self-contentedly approve you
Unto Him who sits above you.

" In prayers that upward mount,

Like to a sunned fount,
And, in gushing back upon you,
Bring the music they have won you.

" In thanks for all the good

By poets understood —
For the sound of seraphs moving
Through the hidden depths of loving !

« For sights of things away,
Through fissures of the clay, —
Promised things, which shall be given
And sung ever up in heaven !

LAY OF THE ROSE. 261

t( For life, sb lonely vain,

For death, which breaks the chain —
For this sense of present sweetness,
And this yearning to completeness !"

ON A FADED VIOLET.

BY SHELLEY.

THE odor from the flower is gone

Which, like thy kisses, breathed on me ;

The color from the flower is flown,
Which glow'd of thee, and only thee !

A shrivel'd, lifeless, vacant form,
It lies on my abandon'd breast,

And mocks the heart, which yet is warm,
With cold and silent rest.

I weep — my tears revive it not !

I sigh — it breathes no more on me ;
Its mute and uncomplaining lot

Is such as mine should be.

HARE- BELL.

SUBMISSION.
BY MARIE ROSEAU.

The dainty little Hare-bell
Is pleasant to the sight,

With its tiny azure petals,
And stem so long and slight.

A timid, fearful flow'ret,
It trembleth at the breeze,

With a constant shiv'ring motion
Like the leaves of Aspen trees.

So very frail and feeble

Appears its tender form,
It scarce seems fit to buffet
With a single raging storm.
262

HARE-BELL. 263

But when the whirl-wind soundeth
A strong tempestuous blast,

Its head it gently boweth

'Till the angry wind hath past

Then from the stormy conflict,
With winning, quiet grace,

Unharmed, once more it riseth
To its own accustomed place.

For He, to whom it oweth

The beauty of its form,
Hath in His goodness given

The strength to meet the storm.

I love this little flowret,

And in its yielding grace,
Oft in my thoughtful fancy

Imagine I can trace

Resemblance to a dear one,

Who hath in real life,
Bowed with such calm submission

To storms of angry strife.

264 HARE-BELL.

Tho' feeble, frail and helpless,
God makes her strong to bear

The storms of dark affliction,
And weight of weary care.

THE FORGET ME NOT.

NOT on the mountain's shelving side,
Nor in the cultivated ground,

Nor in the garden's painted pride,
The flower I seek is found.

Where Time on sorrow's page of gloom

Has fix'd its envious lot,
Or swept the record from the tomb,

It says, Forget-me-not.

And this is still the loveliest flower,

The fairest of the fair,
Of all that deck my lady's bower,

Or bind her floating hair.

LOVE SHUT OUT OF THE FLOWER GARDEN.

BY MRS. LAWBEXCE.

CLOSE the porch and bar the door ! —
Onward may thy foot-steps stray :

Never more an idle hour,

Bend thou here thy treacherous way.

HEART'S-EASE tremble all around,
As thy wild breath wanders by ;

ROSES, to thy bosom bound,

Yield their latest, sweetest sigh.

Cruel boy ! — abjured and scorned,
Hear thy blushing trophies glow ;

LOVE-LIES-BLEEDING, all around —

Speed thee ! dangerous vagrant — go !

Where yon fountain sparkles clear,
Low beneath its willowy shade,

Nurslings of one parent born,
LOVE-AND-IDLENESS have played.
23 265

266 LOVE SHUT OUT OF THE FLOWEK GARDES.

"Where yon wild ROSE flaunts her flowers,
(Once its garlands bound my hair)

Changed for me those sunny hours,
Thou thy thorns hast planted there.

Frailest WOODBINE, all untwined,
Wanders here, forlorn and free ;

Emblem of the maiden's mind,
Who has placed her trust in thee.

How within my calm retreat,
Could thy truant footsteps stray?

Bowed beneath thy breath's control,
Did my steadiest fence give way.

PASSION'S FLOWERS are past and gone ;

Still around one lovely spot,
All her turquoise gems unchanged,

Blooms the meek FORGET-ME-NOT.

Once beneath ihy fickle power,
Glowed the hour or gloomed the day;

Now my chastened bosom owns
Wisdom's rule and Reason's swav.

LOVE SHUT GOT OF THE FLOWER GARDEN. 267

Leave me to my new found peace ;

Leave me to my late repose :
Her* at length my troubles cease —

Here my heart forgets its woes

Joy, of purer influence born,

Hope of loftier aim I know —
Now thy stormy power I scorn ;

Leave me, child ! — thou need'st must go.

Art thou fled without a word ?

Closed the porch and barred the door :
Are thy loved companions gone ?

Fair-haired youth had flown before.

Must I from each idol part ;

To each transport bid adieu,
Which around my youthful heart

Once its blest delusions threw ?

Yet sweet Love ! with tears and grief,

I thy wings receding see ;
Sorrow still on parting waits, —

Hope and joy retire with thee !

THE CAPTIVE AND THE FLOWERS.

FKOM THE GERMAN OF GOETHE.
CAPTITE.

A FLOWER that's wondrous fair, I know,

My bosom holds it dear ;
To seek that flower I long to go,

But am imprison'd here.
'Tis no light grief oppresses me ;
For in the days my steps were free,

I had it always near.
Far round the tower I send mine eye,

The tower so steep and tall ;
But nowhere can the flower descry

From this high castle wall ;
And him who'll bring me my desire
Or be he knight, or be he squire,

My dearest friend I'll call.
268

THE CAPTIVE -AND THE FLOWERS. 269

My blossoms near thee I disclose,
And hear thy wretched plight ;

Thou meanest me, no doubt, the rose,
Thou noble, hapless knight.

A lofty mind in thee is seen,

And in thy bosom reigns the queen
Of flowers, as is her right.

Thy crimson bud I duly prize

In outer robe of green ;
For this thou'rt dear in maiden's eyes,

As gold and jewels' sheen.
Thy wreath adorns the fairest brow,
And yet the flower — it is not thou,

Whom my still wishes mean.

LILT.

The little rose has cause for pride,
And upwards aye will soar ;

Yet am I held by many a bride
The rose's wreath before.
23*

270 THE CAPTIVE AND. THE FLOWERS.

And bears thy bosom faithfully,
And art thou true, and pure as I,
Thou'lt prize the lily more.

I call myself both chaste and pure,

And pure from passions low ;
And yet these walls my limbs immure

In loneliness and woe.
Though thou dost seem, in white array'd,
Like many a pure and beauteous maid,

One dearer thing I know.

PINK.

Ard dearer I. the pink, must be,
And me thou sure dost choose

O else the gard'ner ne'er for me
Such watchful care would use ;

A crowd of leaves enriching bloom !

And mine through life the sweet perfume,
And all the thousand hues.

THE CAPTIVE AND THE FLOWERS. 271

The pink can no one justly slight,
The gard'ner's favorite flower;

He sets it now beneath the light,
Now shields it from its power.

Yet 'tis not pomp, who o'er the rest

In splendor shines, can make me blest ;
It is a still, small flower.

I stand conceal'd, and bending low,
And do not love to speak ;

Yet will I, as 'tis fitting now,
My wonted silence break.

For if 'tis I, thou gallant man,

Thy heart desires, thine, if I can,
My perfumes all I'll make.

The violet I esteem indeed,
So modest and so kind

272 THE CAPTIVE AND THE FLOW.EBS.

Its fragrance sweet yet more I need,

To soothe mine anguish'd mind.
To you the truth will I confess ;
Here, 'mid this rocky dreariness,

My love I ne'er shall find.
The truest wife by yonder brook

Will roam the mournful day,
And hither cast the anxious look,

Long as immured I stay.
Whene'er she breaks a small blue flower
And says, " Forget me not !" the power

I feel, though far away.
Yes, e'en though far, I feel its might,

For true love joins us twain,
And therefore 'mid the dungeon's night

I still in life remain.
And sinks my heart at my hard lot,
I but exclaim, " Forget me not !"

And straight new life regain.

f ;wp;tp aitir Stutimtnts 0f £Lotorrs,

THE NAME OF EVERY FLOWER TO WHICH A
SJOiTIMEXT HAS BKE\ ASSIGNED.

THE H ' N 0-BOOK

LlMilMliK & SKMIMKM OF FLOWERS.

INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS.

By all those token-flowers that tell
What words can ne'er express so wel..

BYBOK

Or all the varied productions of nature,
there is none more agreeable and pleasing
to the senses and to the itnasrination than
flowers. Historic, il and fabulous records
connect them with great and important
events. The Greeks and Romans decorated
the altars of their gods with (lowers in their
holy feasts; and they crowned themselves
with wreaths of flowers- and on days of

THE LANGUAGE AND

great solemnity, placed bouquets upon their
tables. Keats thus rehearses the custom: —

Garlands of evety green, and every scent,

From vales deflower'il. or forest trees branch-rent,

In baskets of bright osiered gold were brought.

High as the handles heaped, to suit the thought

Of every guest, that each as he did please

Might fancy fit his brows, silk-pillowed at his ease.

At their bridal festivals —

It was the custom there to bring away

The bride from home at blushing shut of day

Veiled in a chariot, heralded along

By strewn flowers, torches, and a marriage song.

In modern times, flowers are introduced
on festive occasions, in various places. On
Saints' days, in Roman catholic countries,
" processions are formed which pass under
arches hung with boughs, occasionally paus-
ing before altars covered with flowers. There
the eye dwells With delight on the most beau-
tiful garlands; and the attendants, who are
numerous, are ornamented with the rarest
flowers. The streets are strewed with them ;
choristers carry baskets full of roses and yel-
low broom, which they throw at intervals
before the sacred altars. Ladies, too, who

SENTIMENT OF FLOWERS.

join the procession, bear baskets of flowers,
which thry offer to the saints. The sweet
scents of the rose, cassia, jessamine, orange,
and tuberose, mingle with the odor of the
burning incense, and almost overpower the
senses."

And we have May day, though now alas!
ilit- festivities of that day are becoming less
universally celebrated. Either the inhabi-
tants of once "merrie England" are less
light-hearted than in days of yore, or there
is less sociality among us; and perhaps the
coldness of the season has tended somewhat
toward its desuetude.

But we must now turn more immediate-
ly to notice flowers in connexion with lan-
guage, and we shall find that nearly all na-
tions are acquainted with the language or
sentiment of flowers. The custom of us-
ing flowers as a means of conveying thoughts
and sentiments is of Eastern origin, and of
very remote antiquity ; we find them as im-
ages of some poetical idea, or as represent-
ing a virtuous or vicious quality., frequently
introduced in oriential writings, both sacred
and profane. Some, consecrated to tender

THE LANGUAGE AND

aiul affectionate remembrances, serve to feed
the melancholy mind ; while others more
numerous than the latter, awaken ideas of
glory and happiness, or form a secret and
mysterious language for the use of friends
and lovers. Percival, in writing of the Sen-
timent of Flowers, thus sings : —

In Eastern lands they talk in flowers,

And they tell in a garland their loves and cares ;

Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers
On its leaves a mystic language bears.

The rose is the sign of joy and love,

Young blushing love in its earliest dawn ;

And the mildness that suits the gentle dove,
From the myrtle's snowy flower is drawn.

Innocence shines in the lily's bell,
Pure as a heart in its native heaven ;

Fame's bright star and glory's swell,
By the glossy leaf of the bay are given.

The silent, soft, and humble heart,

In the violet's hidden sweetness breathes ;

And the tender soul that can not part,
A twine of evergreen fondly wreaths.

The cypress that darkly shades the grave,
Is sorrow that mourns its hitter lot ;

And faith that a thousand ills can brave,
Speaks in thy blue leaves, Forget-me-not.

Then gather a wreath from thy garden bowers,
And tell the wish of thy heart in flowers

SENTIMENT OF FLOWERS. 9

The Lady Mary Wortle.y Montague, in
supposed to have first made known this east-
ern custom to Europeans. When residing
at Pera, she sent a Turkish love-letter to a
friend in England, from which we extract
the botanical emblems.

?/OD«. You are as slender as this clove !

You are an unblown rose !

I have long loved you, and you have not

known it.

Jonquil. Have pity on my passion !
Pear. Give me some hope !

A Rose. May you be pleased, and your sorrows

mine !

A Straw. Suffer me to be your slave !
Cinnamon. But rny fortune is yours !
Pepper. Send mo an answer !

Her ladyship states that there is no flow-
er without a verse belonging to it ; and that
it is possih ' to quarrel, reproach, or send
letters of passion, friendship, or civility, or
even of news without ever inking the fingers.

The sentiments which in our little hand-
book we have ascribed to the flowers, are
chiefly derived from the ancients, though
some are of a more modern adaptation. The
ancients in assigning a flower as an emblem

10 THE LANGUAGE AND

of some quality, did so either from ;ts con-
nexion with some mythological, warlike, or
historical event, or from the circumstance
of the predominating quality of the plant
being similar to that which it was intended
to represent. In the research we were com-
pelled to make, in preparing for publication
" The Sentiment of Flowers,"* we found
that time, instead of rendering their senti-
ments less appropriate, had confirmed their
fitness, and continually added new charms
to the language.

Little study is necessary to become a pro-
ficient in the science here taught ; nature
has been before us. It will be sufficient to
give two or three rules, which the reader
will do well to learn, and then by reference
to the Vocabulary he will be enabled to con-
verse in the language of flowers. By the
first rule, a flower, presented inclining to the
right, expresses a thought ; reversed, it is
understood to convey the contrary of that

* In most cases, this book gives the reason why a
flower is made emblematical of the quality it repre-
sents

SENTIMENT OF FLOWERS. 11

sentiment. For example : A rose-bud, with
its thorns and leaves, is understood to
say, " I fear but I hope." The same re-
versed, would signify that " You must neith-
er fear nor hope." You may convey your
sentiments very well by a single flower. As
the second rule : — take the rose-bud which
has already served us for an example, and
strip it of its thorns, it tells you that " There
is everything to hope." Strip it of its leaves,
it will express that " There is everything to
fear."

The expression of nearly all flowers may
be varied by changing their position. Thus,
the marigold, for example : placed upon the
head, it signifies " distress of mind ;" upon
the heart, " the pains of love ;" upon the
breast " ennui." It is also necessary to know
that the pronoun /is understood by incli-
ning the flower to the right, and the pronoun
thou by inclining it to the left.

Such are the first principles of this mys-
terious language. Love and friendship
ought to join their discoveries to render it
more perfect ; these sentiments, the most

J2 LANGUAGE APfD SKNTIMENT OF FLOWERS.

delightful in nature, are alone able to perfect
what they have originated.

We shall conclude this introduction with
the following lines from Burns, on the
"Emblems of Flowers."

Adown winding Nith I did wander,
To mark the sweet flowers as tiiey spring ;

Adown winding Nith I did wander,
Of Phillis to muse and to sing.

The daisy amused my fond fancy,

So artless, so simple, so wild :
Thou emblem, said 1, o' my Phillis,

For she is simplicity's child.

The rose-bud's the blush of my charmer,
Her sweet balmy lip when 'tis press'd ;

How fair and how pure is the lily,
But fairei and purer her breast.

Yon knot of gay flowers in the arbor,
They ne'er wi' my Phillis can vie ;

Her breath is the breath of the woodbine,
Its dew drop o' diamond her eye.

Her voice is the song of the morning,
That wakes through the green-spreading giove.

When Phcebus peeps over the mountains,
On music, and pleasure, and love.

But beauty, how frail and how fleeting
The bloom of a fine summer's day !

While worth in the mind »' my Phillis
Will flourish with ait a decay !

FLOWERS,

WITH THE

SENTIMENTS WHICH THEY REPRESENT

A Broken Straw Dissension j Rupture

A Rose Leaf I never importune.

A tuft of Moss Maternal love.

Acacia Platonic love.

Acacia Rose Elegance.

Aconite: Wolfs Bane. Misanthropy.

Aconite-Leaved Crow-
foot, or Fair Maid of
France Lustre.

African Man-gold Vulgar minds.

Agn us Castus Cold ness ; to live with.

out love.

Agrimony Thankfulness.

1-1 THK LANGUAGE AND

Allspice (Calycanthus}. Benevolence.

Almond Laurel Perfidy.

Almond-Tree Indiscretion ; Promise.

Alo^ Acute sorrow : Bitter-
ness.

Althaea Frutex Persuasion.

Amaranth Immortality.

Amaryllis Haughtiness: Pride.

Ambrosia Txrve returned.

American Cowslip . . . \ ou are mv Divinity.

Amethyst Admiration.

Angelica Inspiration.

Apple '1 emptation.

Apple Blossom Preference.

Arbor Vitae Unchanging friendship ;

Old age.

Ash-Tree Grandeur.

Aspen-Tree Lamentation.

Asphodel . . My regrets follow you to

the grave.

Auricula Painting.

Austrian Rose Very lovely.

Azalea Temperance.

SENTIMENT OF FLOWERS. 13

Bachelor's Buttons Hope in love.

Balm Social intercourse.

Balm-gentle Pleasantry.

Balm of Gilcad Healing.

Balaam (noli-metan-
gere) Impatience.

Barberry Sourness ; Sharpness.

Basil Hatred.

Bee Ophrys Error.

Bee Orchis Industry.

Beech Prosperity.

Bear's Breech (Acan-
thus) The Arts.

Belladonna Imagination.

Bilberry Treachery.

Bindweed Extinguish.

Broom Humility.

Bittersweet Xiirht-'hade.Tnith.

Black Mulberry Tiee. .1 will not survive you.

Black Pti|>lar Courage.

Black Thorn Difficulty.

Bladder Nut Tree Frivolous amusement.

Blue Bottle Centaurv. .D*>lioacv.

16 THE LANGUAGK 4ND

Blue Canterbury Bell . .Constancy.

Blue Periwinkle Early friendship.

Blue Violet Modesty.

Borage Bluntness.

Box Stoicism.

Bramble Envy.

Branch of Currants . . .You please all.
Branch of Thorns .... Severity ; Rigor.

Bridal Rose Happy love.

Broom Neatness.

Buckbean Calm ; Repose.

Budoss Falsehood.

Burdock Importunity.

Buttercups Ingratitude.

Butterfly Orchis Gayety.

Cabbage Profit.

Cacalia Adulation.

Cactus I burn.

CalLa Magnificent beauty.

Camellia Japonica. . . .Unpretending excellence
Campanula, or Pyra-
midal Bell Flower. . .Gratitu.le.

SKHTI.MKNT OF K1OWKRS. J7

C.ui ly Tail Architecture.

Cardinal flower Distinction.

Canary Grass Perseverance.

Carnation Pride and Beauty.

Carolina Ro«e Love is dangerous.

Cashew Xut Perfume.

Cedar of Lebanon. . . .Incorruptible.
Cedar-Tree : Fennel . .Strength.

Camomile Energy in adversity.

Checkered Fnlillarv. . . Persecution.

Cherry-Tree (iood education.

Chestnut-Tree Do me justice.

China Aster > aneiy.

China, or Indian PinK.. Aversion.
China, or MonthlyRose. Beauty ever new.
Chrysanthemum Cheerfulness under ad-
versity.

Cinquefoil Beloved daughter.

Citron Beauty with ill humor.

Clove scented Pink . . .Dignity.

Cobcea Gossip.

Cock's Comb (Crested

Amaranth) Singularity.

18 THE LANGUAGE AND

Columbine Folly.

Convolvulus, Blue . . . .Repose.

Convolvulus, Major. . .Dangerous insinuator.

Convolvulus, Pink. . ..Worth sustained by ju-
dicious and tender af-
fection.

Coreopsis Always cheerful.

Coriander Hidden merit.

Corn Cockle (Rose

Campion) Gentility.

Cornell-Tree Duration.

Coronella Success crown yout

wishes.

Cowslip Pensiveness.

Crown Imperial Majesty ; Power.

C uckoo Flower Paternal error.

Cuckoo Pint Ardor.

Cyclamen Diffidence.

Cypress and Marygold

together Despair.

i
Cypress-Tree Mourning.

Daffodil Deceitful hope.

SENTIMENT OF FLOWERS. 19

Dahlia Instability.

Daisy — Michaelmas. . .Cheerfulness.

Daisy Innocence.

Dandelion Oracle.

Darnel, or Ray Grass. .Vice.

Dead leaves Sadness.

Dew Plant Serenade.

Dittany of C rete Birth.

Dittany, white Passion.

Dodder of Thyme Baseness.

Dog's Bane(Apocynum)Deceit ; Falsehood
Dragon Plant, Catchfly Snare.

Ebony Blackness

Eglantine — Sweetbrier. Poetry.

Elder Compassion.

Enchanter's Night-
shade Fascination.

Endive Frugality.

Evening Primrose Inconstancy.

Everlasting, or Cotton

Weed Never ceasing remem

brance.

20 THE L.^M,IAC;K AND

Everlasting Pea . : . . . .Lasting pleasure.

False Narcissus Delusive hope.

Fern Sincerity.

Ficoides, or Ice Plant. .Your looks freeze me.

Field Anemone Sickness.

Fig Argument.

Fig Man-gold Idleness.

Fig-Tree Prolific.

Fir-Tree Elevation.

Flax I feel your kindness.

Flax Domestic industry.

Flax-leaved Goldy-
locks. Tardiness.

Flowering Fern Revery.

Flower of an Hour. . ..Delicate beauty.

Fool's Parsley Silliness.

Fox Glove Insincerity.

Foxtail Grass Sporting.

Fraxinella Fire.

French HoneysncKie. . .Rustic bt'auty

French Marysold Jealousy.

Fumitory Spleen.

SENTIMENT OF FLOWERS. 2i

Garden Anemone Forsaken.

Garden Daisy I partake your senti-
ments.

Garden Marygold Uneasiness and jeal-
ousy.

Garden Ranunculus. . .You are rich in attrac-
tion.

Garden Sage Esteem.

Garland of Roses Reward of virtue.

Geranium, Ivy Bridal favor.

Geranium, Nutmeg. . . .Expected meeting.

Gillyflower Lasting beauty.

Globe Amaranth Unchangeable.

Goat's Rue Reason.

Golden Rod Precaution.

Goosefoot (Bonus Hen-

ricus) Goodness.

Gorse Enduring affection.

Grass Utility.

Guelder Rose Winter of age.

Harebell Grief.

Hawkweed Quick-sightedness.

22 THE LANGUAGE AND

Hawthorn Hope.

Hazel Reconciliation.

Heath Solitude.

Helenium Tears.

Hellebore Female inconstancy.

Heliotrope Devotion.

Hemlock You will cause my death

Henbane Imperfection.

Hepatica, or Noble Liv-
erwort Confidence.

Holly Foresight.

Hollyhock Fruitfulness.

Honesty (Lunaria) . . . .Honesty.

Honey Flower Love, sweet and secret.

Honeysuckle Bonds of love.

Hop Injustice.

Hornbeam-Tree Ornament.

Horse-Chestnut Luxury.

House Leek Vivacity.

Houstonia Cerulea . . . .Content ; Quiet happi-
ness.

Hoya Sculpture.

Hundred-leaved Rose. .Graces.

SENTIMENT OF FLOWEHS. 23

Hyacinth Game — Play.

Hydrangea (Hortensia) Boaster; You are cold.

Indian, or Sweet Scabi-
ous I have lost all.

Indian Pink Always lovely.

Iris Message.

Iris, German Flame.

Ivy Friendship in adversity,

Japan Rose Beauty is your only at

traction.

Jonquil Desire.

Juniper Asylum ; Protection.

King's Cups I wish I was rich.

Lady's Mantle Fashion.

Lady's Slipper Fickleness.

Larch — Pine Boldness.

Larkspur Levity ; Lightness.

Laurel Glory.

Laurestine I die if neglected.

Lavender Acknowledgment.

24 THK LANGUAGE AND

Lemon Zest.

Lettuce Cold-hearted.

Lilac First emotion of love.

Lily of the Valley Return of happiness.

Linden, or Lime-Tree. .Conjugal love.

Lint I feel all my obligations

to you.

Lobelia Malevolence.

Locust Plant Affection beyond the

grave.

London Pride Frivolity.

Lotus Flower Estranged love.

Love lies Bleeding . . . .Desertion.

Love in a Mist Embarrassment.

Lucern Life.

Lupine Dejection.

Lychnis Religious enthusiasm.

Madder Calumny.

Magnolia Love of nature.

Maiden Hair Discretion ; Secrecy.

Mallow Sweet or mild disposi-
tion.

SLNTI.MENT OF H.O'.»hRS. 25

Manchmel-Tree Falsehood.

Mandrake Rarity.

Maple Reserve.

Majoram Blushes.

Marvel of Peru Timidity.

Marygold Inquietude.

May Rose Precocity.

Meadow Saffron My best days are past.

Meadow Sweet Uselessness.

Mezereon Desire to please.

Michaelmas Daisy . . . .Afterthought.

Mignonette Your qualities surpass

your charms.

Milk Vetch Your presence softens

my pains.

Mimosa Courtesy.

Mint ; Snowball Virtue.

Mistletoe .1 surmount all difficul-
ties.

Mock Orange, or Syr-

insja(Philadelphus) .Fraternal love.

Monk's Hood Kni?ht errantry.

M oonwort Forget/illness.

2fi ripr

Moschatel . .Weakness ; Insignifi-
cance.

Moss Rose Pleasure without alloy.

Moss Rose bud Confession.

Moving Plant Agitation.

Mountain Laurel Ambition.

Mountain Pink Aspiring.

Mourning Geranium ..Despondency.
Mouse-ear Chickweed .Ingenious simplicity.

Mushroom Suspicion.

Musk Rose Capricious beauty.

Myosotis, or Mouse-ear.Forget-me-not.

Myrobalan .Privation.

Myrtle Love.

Nasturtium Patriotism.

Nettle Cruelty.

Night Convolvulus. . . .Night.

Nightshade Dark thoughU.

Nosegay Gallantry.

Oak and Holly Hospitality.

Oak Leaf Bravery and Human ij

SENTIMENT OK FLOWERS. 27

Olive Branch Peace.

Orange Flower Chastity.

Orange-Tree Generosity.

Orchis A belle.

Oriental Persicaria. . .. Restoration.
Osier Frankness.

Palm .Victory.

Pansy, or Heart's Ease . Thoughts, Pensez a mol,
Think of me.

Parsley Entertainment; Feast-
ing.

Pasque Flower Ane-
mone You are without preten-
sion.

Passion Flower Belief; Religious super-

stition.

Patience Dock Patience.

Peach Blossom I am your captive.

Periwinkle Sweet remembrances.

Periwinkle, red or

white Delightful recollections.

Peruvian Heliotrope ... I love you ; Infatuation.

28 THE LANGUAGE AND

Pheasant's Eye (Adon-
is) Sorrowful remembran-
ces.

Phlox Unanimity.

Pimpernel Assignation.

Pine Pity.

Pine Apple You are perfect.

Pink Lively and pure affec-
tion.

Plum-Tree Keep your promises.

Poet's Narcissus Egotism.

Polyanthus Pride of riches.

Pomegranate Foolishness.

Pompon Rose Genteel ; Pretty.

Poppy Consolation of sleep.

Potato Beneficence.

Prickly Pear Satire.

Primrose Early youth.

Privet Prohibition.

Purple Cloves Provident.

Purple-eyed Succory
Hawkweed Protection.

Purple lilac Fastidiousness.

SENTIMENT OF FLOWERS. 29

Bashful shame.
•'liine-Tree Genius.

Quaking Grass Agitation.

liueen's Rocket She will be fashionable.

Ilanunculus (R. Asiati- You are radiant with

cus) charms.

Raspberry or Bramble . Remorse.

Red Double Pink Woman's love.

Red-leaved Rose Beauty and prosperity.

Red Pink Talent.

Red Poppy Evanescent pleasure.

Red Rose Bud Pure and lovely.

Red Tulip Declaration of love.

Red Valerian Accommodating disposi-
tion.

Reeds Music.

Rest Harrow Obstacle.

Ring Flower Marriage.

Rhododendron Danger.

Rocket Rivalry.

Rock Mad wort Tranquillity.

THE LANGUAGE AND

Rock Rose (Cistus) . . .Popular favor.

Rose Beauty.

Rose Bud Young girl.

Rose, Damask Freshness, or bloom of

complexion.

Rose-colored Primrose. Unpatronised merit.
Rosebay Willowherb ..Celibacy.
Rosemary Your presence revives

me.
Rose-scented~Geranium-Preference.

Rudbeckia Justice.

Rue Purification.

Rush Docility; Complaisance.

Saffron (Crocussativns). Mirth ; Excess is dan-
gerous.

Sardony Irony.

Scabious, Dark Blue. . .Unfortunate attachment
Mourning bride.

Scarlet Fuchsia Taste.

Scarlet Geranium Comforting.

Scarlet Ipomaea ; Indian

Jasmine I attach myself to you.

SKNT1MENT OF FLOWEKS. 31

Scarlet Lily High Soul.

Scarlet Nasturtium . . . .Splendor.

Scarlet Poppy Fantastic extravagance.

Sea Lavender Dauntlessness.

Serpentine Cactus . . . .Horror.

Service-Tree Prudence.

Silver-leaved Gerani-
um Recall.

Small Bindweed Obstinacy.

Small Cape Marygold. .Presage.

Snake's Tongue Slander.

Snap Dragon Presumption.

Snowball-Tree Age.

Snowdrop Consolation.

Sorrowful Geranium. . .Melancholy spirit.

Southern Wood Jest ; Bantering.

Spanish Jasmine Sensuality.

Speedwell Resemblance.

Spider Ophrys Skill.

Spider wort ... .Transient happiness.

Spindle-Tree Your image is engraven

on my heart.
Spring Crocus ........ Youthful gladness.

32 THE LANGUAGE AND

Spring Grass (Anthox-

anthum) Fragrance

Spruce Pine Hope in adversity.

St. John's Wort Superstition.

Stinging Nettle Scandal.

Stramonium Disguise.

Strawberry Perfect excellence.

Striped Pink, or Carna-
tion Refusal.

Starwort Afterthought.

Strawberry-Tree False pretension.

Sunflower False riches.

•Swallow- wort Medicine.

Sweet-scented Clematis.Artifice.

Sweet-scented Tussi- Justice shall be done
lage, or Coltsfoot. you.

Sweet Pea Delicate pleasure.

Sweet William Finesse.

Sweet Sultan ; Blue Bot-
tle Felicity.

Tall Sunflower Lofty and pure thoughts

Tamarisk Crime.

SENTIMENT OF FLOWERS. 33

Tansy; Tremella Nos

toe Resistance.

Teasle Misanthropy.

Ten Weeks' Stock Promptitude.

Thistle Austerity.

Thorn Apple ; Monk's

Hood Deceitful charms.

Thrift Sympathy.

Throat Wort Neglected beauty.

Thyme Activity.

Tooth wort Secret love.

Trefoil Unity.

Truffle Surprise.

Trumpet Flower (Big-

nonia) Separation.

Tuberose Voluptuousness.

Tulip-Tree Fame.

Turnip and Wild Grape.Charity.

Variegated Tulip Beautiful eyes.

Various-colored Lanta-
na...., Rigor.

Venice Sumach Intellectual excellence.

2

34 THE LANGUAGE AND

Venus's Looking Glass .Flattery.

Verbena Sensibility.

Vernal Grass Poor, but happy.

Veronica Fidelity in friendship.

Vervain Enchantment.

Vine Intoxication.

Virginian Jasmine . . . .Separation.
Virgin's Bower Filial love.

Wake Robin Ardor.

Wallflower Fidelity in adversity.

Water Lily Eloquence.

Watermelon Bulkiness.

Water Willow Freedom.

Weeping Willow Melancholy.

Wheat Riches.

White Daisy I will think of il.

White Jasmine Amiability.

\V hite Lilac Youth.

White Lily Purity and Modesty.

White Mulberry-Tree.. Wisdom.

White Mullein Good nature.

White Periwinkle Pleasures of memory.

SENTIMENT OF FLOWERS. 33

White Pink Fair and fascinating.

White Poplar Time.

White Poppy Sleep of the heart.

White Rose Silence.

White Rose Bud Heart ignorant of love.

White Violet C andor.

White Water Lily ....Purity of heart.
Wild Honeysuckle .... Inconstancy in love*
Wild, or Dog Rose. . .. Simplicity.

Wild Plum-Tree Independence.

Wild Sorrel Paternal affection.

Willow Herb; Lythnun.Pretension.

Winter Cherry Deception.

Witch Hazel Spell bound.

Woodbine Fraternal love.

Wood Sorrel Maternal tendernes*.

Wormwood Absence.

Yarrow ; Mi Ifoil War.

Yellow Amaryllis Pride.

Yellow Carnation .... Disdain.
Yellow Day Lily; Me-
zereon Coquetry.

36 LANGUAGE AND SENTIMENT OF FI.OWf.nS.

Yellow Iris Flame.

Yellow Jasmine Grace and Elegance.

Yellow Lily Playful gayety.

Yellow Marygold Sacred aflections.

Yellow Rose Infidelity.

Yellow Violet Rustic happinest.

Yew Sorrow.

SENTIMENTS,

THE FLOWERS BY WHICH THEY ARE REI
BESENTED.

A belle Orchis.

Absence ^ ormwood.

Accommodating disposi-
tion Red Valerian.

Acknowledgment Lavender.

Activity Thyme.

Acute sorrow; Bitter-
ness Aloe.

Admiration Amethyst.

Adulation Cacalia.

AHection beyond the
grave Locust Plant.

38 THE LANGUAGE AND

Afterthought Star wort.

Afterthought Michaelmas Daisy.

Agitation Moving Plant.

Agitation Quaking Grass.

Always cheerful Coreopsis.

Always lovely Indian Pink.

Ambition Mountain Laurel.

Amiability White Jasmine.

Architecture Candy Tuft.

Ardor Wake Robin ; Cuckoo

Pint.

Argument Fig.

Artifice Sweet-scented Clematis

Arts (The) Bear's Breech (Acan-
thus).

Age Snowball-Tree.

Aspiring » . .Mountain Pink.

Assignation Pimpernel.

Asylum ; Protection . . . Juniper.

Austerity Tnisile.

Aversion China, or Indian Pink.

Baseness Tkxlder of Thyme.

SENTIMENT OF FLOWERS. 39

Bashful shame Peony.

Beautiful eyes Variegated Tulip.

Beauty Rose.

Beauty and prosperity. Red-leaved Rose.

Beauty is your only at-
traction Japan Rose.

Beauty ever new China, or Monthly Rose

Beauty with ill humor.. Citron.

Belief; Religious super-
stition Passion Flower.

Beloved daughter Cinquefoil.

Beneficence Potato.

Benevolence Allspice (Calycanthus).

Birth Dittany of Crete.

Blackness Ebony.

Bluntness Borage.

Blushes Majoram.

Boaster; You are cold. Hydrangea (Hortensia)

Boldness Larch ; Pine.

Bonds of love Honeysuckle.

Bravery and Humanity. Oak Leaf.

Bridal favor. . , Ivy Geranium.

Bulkincss Watermelon.

40 THE LANGUAGE AND

Calm ; Repose Buckbean.

Calumny Madder.

Candor White Violet.

Capricious beauty .... Musk Rose.

Celibacy Rosebay Willowherb.

Charity Turnip and Wild

Grape.

Chastity Orange Flower.

Cheerfulness Michaelmas Daisy.

Cheerfulness under ad-
versity Chrysanthemum.

Cold-hearted Lettuce.

Coldness; to live with-
out love Agnus Castus.

Comforting Scarlet Geranium.

Compassion Elder.

Confession Moss Rose bud.

Confidence Hepatica. or Noble Liv

erwort.

Conjugal love Linden, or Lime-Tree.

Consolation Snowdrop.

Consolation of sleep. . .Poppy.

C onstancy Blue Canterburv Bell.

I I Mi N I- OK KI.o\VKRS 41

. JllWl happi-

............. Hou.vtonia ( Yruleu.

i . y ............ Yellow Day Lily ; Me-

zeremi.
Courage ............ Black Poplar.

Courtesy ............ Mimo<a.

Crime ............. Tainiirisk.

Cruelty .............. Nettle

DariLrer .............. Rhododendron.

Dangerous insinuator. .Convolvulus, Major.
Dark thoughts ........ Xisjhtshade.

Dauntlessness ........ Sea Lavender.

Din-it ; Falsehood . . . .Dog's Bane( Apueynum)

Dcreitful charms ...... Thorn Apple; Monk's

Hood.
Dcreitful hope ....... Daii'odil.

Deception ......... Winter Chi-rry.

Declaration of love. ...Red Tulip.

Dejection ............ Lupinr.

Delicacy ............ Blue Bottle Centaury.

Drlicate beaulj ....... Flower of an Hour.

Delicate pleasure ..... Sweet Pea.

42 THE LANGUAGE ANO

Delightful recollections.Periwinkle, red or

white.

Delusive hope False Narcissus.

Desire Jonquil.

Desire to please Mezereon.

Desertion. Love lies Bleeding.

Despair Cypress and Marygold

together.

Despondency Mourning Geranium.

Devotion Heliotrope.

Difficulty Black Thorn.

Diffidence Cyclamen.

Dignity Clove scented Pink.

Discretion ; Secrecy . . . Maiden Hair.

Disdain Yellow Carnation.

Disguise Stramonium.

Dissension; Rupture.. A Broken Straw.

Distinction Cardinal Flower.

Do me justice Chestnut-Tree.

Docility; Complaisance. Rush.
Domestic industry . . . .Flax.
Duration Cornell-Tree.

SENTIMENT OF FLOWERS. 43

Early friendship Blue Periwinkle.

Early youth Primrose.

Egotism Poet's Narcissus.

Elegance Acacia Rose.

Elevation Fir-Tree.

Eloquence Water Lily.

Embarrassment Love in a Mist.

Enchantment Vervain.

Enduring affection .... Gorse.
Energy in adversity . . .Camomile.
Entertainment ; Feast-
ing Parsley.

Envy Bramble.

Error Bee Ophrys.

Esteem Garden Sage.

Estranged love Lotus Flower.

Evanescent pleasure . . . Red Poppy.

Expected meeting Geranium, Nutmeg.

Extinguish BindweH.

Fair and fascinating. . .White Pink.

False pretension Strawberry-Tree.

False riches Sunflower.

44 THE LANGUAGE AND

Falsehood Manchineel-Tree.

Falsehood Bugloss.

Fame Tulip-Tree.

Fantastic extravagance.Scarlet Poppy.

Fascination Enchanter's Night-
shade.

Fashion Lady's Mantle.

Fastidiousness Purple lilac.

Felicity Sweet Sultan ; Blue Bot-
tle.

Female imconstancy ..Hellebore.

Fickleness Lady's Slipper.

Fidelity in adversity. . .Wallflower.

Fidelity in friendship. .Veronica.

Filial love Virsrin's Bower.

Finesse Sweet William.

Fire Fraxinella.

First emotion of lovr . . .Lilac.

Flame Yellow Iris

Flattery V»-nii>'- Lool '

Folly Cnlnmmnr.

Foolishness

Foresight Hollv.

SENTIMENT OF FLOWERS. 45

Forget-me-not Myosotis, or Mouse-ear.

Forgetfulness Moonwort.

Forsaken Garden Anemone.

Fragrance Spring Grass (Anthox-

anthuiji).

Frankness Osier.

Fraternal love Woodbine; Mock Or-
ange, or Syringa (Phil-
adelphus).

Freedom Water Willow.

Freshness, or bloom of

complexion Damask Rose.

Friendship in adversity. Ivy.

Frivolity London Pride.

Frivolous amusement. .Bladder IVutTree.

Frugality Endive.

Fruitf illness Hollyhock.

Gayety Butterfly Orchis.

Gallantry Nosegay.

Game — Play Hyarinth.

Generosity Orange-Tree.

Genius . . Plane-Tree.

46 THE LANGUAGE AND

Genteel ; Pretty Pompon Rose.

Gentility Corn C ockle (Rose

Campion).

Glory Laurel.

Good education Cherry-Tree.

Good nature White Mullein.

Goodness Goosefoot (Bonus Hen-

ricus).

Gossip Cobcea.

Grace and Elegance. . .Yellow Jasmine.

Graces Ash-Tree.

Grandeur Hundred-leaved Rose.

Gratitude Campanula, or Pyra-
midal Bell Flower.

Grief Harebell.

Happy love Bridal Rose.

Hatred Basil.

Haughtiness; Pride . . .Amaryllis.

Healing Balm of Gilead.

Heart ignorant of love. "White Rose Bud.

Hidden merit Coriander.

High Soul Scarlet Lily.

MIMKNT OK FLOWKRS. 47

Honesty Honesty (Lunaria).

Hope Hawthorn.

Hope in adversity Spruce Pine.

Hope in love Bachelor's Buttons.

Horror Serjienline Cactus.

Hospitality Oak and Holly.

Humility Broom.

I am your captive Peach Blossom.

I attach myself to you .Scarlet Ipomara j Indian
Jasmine.

I burn Cactus.

I die if neglected Laurestine.

I feel all my obligations
to you Lint.

I feel your kindness . . .Flax.

I have lost all Indian, or Sweet Scabi-
ous.

I love you ; Infatua-
tion Peruvian Heliotrope.

I never importune A Rose Leaf.

I partake your senti-
ments Garden Daisy.

48 THE LANGUAGE AND

I surmount all difficul-
ties Mistlelt/e.

I will not survive you.. Black Mulberry Tree.

I will think of it White Daisy.

I wish I was rich King's Cups.

Idleness Fig Marygold.

Imagination Belladonna.

Immortality Amaranth.

Impatience Balsam (noli-metan-

gere).

Imperfection Henbane.

Importunity Burdock.

Inconstancy Evening Primrose.

Inconstancy in love . . . Wild Honeysuckle.

Incorruptible Cedar of Lebanon.

Independence Wild Plum-Tree.

Indiscretion ; Promise . .Almond-Tree.

Industry Bee Orchis.

Infidelity Yellow Rose.

Ingenious simplicity. . .Mouse-ear fhickweed.

Ingratitude Buttercups.

Injustice Hop.

Innocence . . i Daisy.

: I.MKXT OK KLOWKH*. 49

Inquietude

Insincerity Fox Glove.

Inspiration Angelica.

Instability Dahlia.

Intellectual excellence. Venice Sumach.

Intoxication Vine

Irony Sanloiiy.

•
Jealousy French Marysokl.

Jest; Bantering Southern Wood.

Justice Rudbeckia.

Justice shall be done Sweet-scented Tussi
you. lage, or Coltsfoot.

Keep your promises .... Plum-Tree.
Knight errantry Monk's Hood.

Lamentation Aspen-Tree.

Lasting beauty Gillyflower.

Lasting pleasure Evt-rlastinz Pea.

Levity ; Lightness .... Larkspur.

Life Lucern.

Lively &, pure allection . Pink.

50 THE LANGUAGE AND

Lofty and pure thoughts.Tall Sunflower.

Love Myrtle.

Love is dangerous . . .. . Carolina Rose.

Love of nature Magnolia.

Love returned Ambrosia.

Love, sweet and secret. Honey Flower.

Lustre Aconite-Leaved Crow-
foot, or Fair Maid of
France.

Luxury Horse-Chestnut.

Magnificent beauty Calla.

Majesty ; Power Crown Imperial.

Malevolence Lobelia.

Marriage Ring Flower.

Maternal love A tuft of Moss.

Maternal tenderness . .Wood Sorrel.

Medicine Swallow- wort.

Melancholy Weeping Willow.

Melancholy spirit Sorrowful Geranium.

Message Iris.

Mirth ; Excess is dan-
gerous SnflYon (Crocussatmisl

SENTIMENT OF KLOWERS.

Misanthropy Teasle ; Aconite ; WolTs

Bane.

Modesty Blue Violet.

Mourning Cypress-Tree.

Music Reeds.

My regrets follow you to

the grave Asphodel.

My best days are past . Meadow Saffron.

Neatness Broom.

Neglected beauty Throat Wort.

Never ceasing remem- Everlasting, or Cotton

brance Weed.

Night Xislit Convolvulus.

Obstacle Rest Harrow.

Obstinacy Small Bindweed.

Oracle Dandelion.

Ornament Hornbeam-Tree.

Paintin? Auricula.

Passion Dittany, white.

Paternal affection Wild Sorrel.

52 THE LANGUAGE AND

Paternal error Cuckoo Flower.

Patience Patience Dock.

Patriotism Nasturtium.

Peace Olive Branch.

Pensiveness Cowslip.

Perfect excellence. . . .Strawberry.

Perfidy Almond Laurel.

Perfume Cashew Nut.

Persecution Checkered Fritillary.

Perseverance Canary Grass.

Persuasion Althaea Frutex.

Pity Pine.

Platonic love Acacia.

Pleasantry Balm-gentle.

Pleasures of memory ..White Periwinkle.

Poetry Eglantine — Sweetbrier.

Poor, but happy Vernal Grass.

Popular favor Rock Rose (Cistus).

Playful gayety Yellow Lily.

Pleasure without alloy .Moss Rose.

Precaution Golden Rod.

Preference Apple Blossom ; Rose-

•cental Geranium.

. SENTIMENT OF FLOWERS. 53

Precocity May Rose.

Presage Sn:all Cape Marygold.

Presumption Snap Dragon.

Pretension Willow Herb; Lythrum.

Pride Yellow Amaryllis.

Pride and Beauty Carnation.

Pride of riches Polyanthus.

Privation Myrobalan.

Profit Cabbage.

Prohibition Privet.

Prolific Fig-Tree.

Promptitude Ten Weeks' Stock.

Prosperity Beech.

Protection Purple-eyed Succory

Hawk weed.

Provident .... Purple Cloves.

Prudence Service-Tree.

Pure and lovely Red Rose Bud.

Purification Rue.

Purity and Modesty . . .White Lily.
Purity of heart White Water Lily.

Quicksightedness Hawk weed.

54 THE LANGUAGE AND

Rarity Mandrake.

Reason Goat's Rue.

Recall Silver-leaTed Gerani-
um.

Reconciliation ....... .Hazel.

Refusal Striped Pink, or Carna

tion.

Religious enthusiasm. .Lychnis.

Remorse Raspberry or Bramble.

Repose Convolvulus, Blue

Resemblance Speedwell.

Reserve Maple.

Resistance Tansy ; Tremella Nos

toe.

Restoration Oriental Persicaria.

Return of happiness . . .Lily of the Valley.

Revery Flowering Fern.

Reward of virtue Garland of Roses.

Rigor Various-colored Lanta

Rivalry Rocket.

Rustic beauty French Honeysuckle.

Rustic happiness Yellow Violet.

SENTIMF.NT OF FLOWERS. 53

Riches Wheat.

Sacred affections. .... Yellow Marygold.

Sadness Dead leaves.

Satire Prickly Pear.

Scandal Stinging Nettle.

Sculpture Hoya.

Secret love Toothwort.

Sensibility Verbena.

Sensuality Spanish Jasmine.

Separation Virginian Jasmine.

Separation Trumpet Flower ( Bi?

nonia).

Serenade Dew Plant.

Severity ; Rigor Branch of Thorns.

She will be fashionable.Queen's Rocket.

Sickness Field Anemone.

Silence White Rose.

Silliness Fool's Parsley.

Simplicity Wild, or Dog Rose.

Sincerity Fern.

Singularity Cock's Coinb (Crested

Amaranth).

56 THE LANGUAGE AND

Skill Spider Ophrys.

Slander Snake's Tongue.

Sleep of the heart White Poppy.

Snare Dragon Plant, Catchfly.

Social intercourse Balm.

Solitude Heath.

Sorrow Yew.

Sorrowful remembran- Pheasant's Eye (Adon-
ccs is).

Sourness ; Sharpness . . .Barberry.

Spell bound Witch Hazel.

Spleen Fumitory.

Splendor Scarlet Nasturtium.

Sporting Foxtail Grass.

Stoicism Box.

Strength Cedar-Tree : Fennel.

Success crown your

wishes Coronella.

Superstition St. John's Wort.

Surprise Truffle.

Suspicion Mushroom.

Sweet or mild disposi-
tion Mallow.

SENTIMENT Of KLOVVERS. 57

Sweet remembrances ..Periwinkle.
Sympathy Thrill.

Talent Red Pink.

Tar Ji ness Flax-leaved Goldy-

locks.

Taste Scarlet Fuchsia

Tears Helenium.

Temperance Azalea.

Temptation Apple.

Thankfulness Agrimony.

Thoughts, Pensez a moi,

Think of me Pansy, or Heart's Ease.

Time W hite Poplar.

Timidity Marvel of Peru.

Tranquillity Rock Madwort.

Transient happiness. . .Spiderwort.

Treachery Bilberry.

Truth Bittersweet Nightshade.

Unanimity Phtex.

Vnchanging friendship ;

Old age Arbor Vitse.

58 THE LANGUAGE AND

Unchangeable Globe Amaranth.

Uneasiness and jeal-
ousy Garden Marygold.

Unfortunate attachment ;
Mourning bride .... Scabious, Dark Blue.

Unity Trefoil.

Unpatronised merit Rose-colored Primrose.

Unpretending excel-
lence Camellia Japonica.

Uselessness Meadow Sweet.

Utility Grass.

Variety China Aster.

Very lovely Austrian Rose.

Vice Darnel, or P ay Gras*

Victory Palm.

Virtue Mint ; Snowball.

Vivacity House Leek.

Voluptuousness Tuberose.

Vulgar minds African Marygold.

War Yarrow ; Milfoil.

Winter of age Guelder Rose.

SENTIMENT OF FLOVVE3S. 59

Weakness; Insignifi-
cance .,. . . .MoschaU'l.

Wisdom ". . . . White Mulberry-Tree.

Woman's love Red Double Pink.

Worth sustained by ju-
dicious and tender af-
fection Pink, frnrolvulus

You are my Divinity ..American Cowslip

You are perfect Pine Apple.

You are radiant with Ranunculus (R. Asiati-
charms ens).

You are rich in attrac-
tion Garden Ranunculus.

You are without preten- Pasque Flower Ane-
sion mone.

You please all Branch of Currants.

You will cause my death.Hemlock.

Young girl Rose Bud.

Your image is engraven
on my heart Spindle-Tree.

Your presence revives
me . . . • Rosemcrr.

THE LANGUAGE

Your looks freeze me. .Ficoides, or Ice Plant
Your presence softens

my pains ........... Milk Vetch.

Your qualities surpass

your charms ........ Mignonette.

Youth .............. White Lilac.

Youthful gladness ..... Spring Crocu*.

X i :s t ....... '. ... ... Lemon.

MI

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