°\' r v O' b THIt LANGUAGE AND POETRY OF FLOWERS. WITH Beautiful Illustrations IN OIL COLORS. WORLD PUBLISHING HOUSE, 139 EIGHTH STREET, NEW YORK. 1876 . \//V lU'JVEK f/V |/(o F6 Z_ 32.S nnu PREFACE. “ I love God, I love little children, 1 love the flowers,” said a Persian, in vin« dication of his character as a true poet. Very few, in any time, possessing the “ vision and the faculty divine,” have failed to give such evidence of inspiration. In cottage and in palace, in every country, and in every age, flowers have been teach¬ ers and companions of the gentle and kind hearted; the truest language of love, the liveliest symbols of all holy thoughts and feelings. This little volume contains some of the most beautiful poems which, from old Chaucer’s time, has been written in our language about flowers. It is itself a “garden of poesies,” which will not be unwelcome to any who love either sorg or nature. 3 CONTENTS Hymn to the flowers The wreath The use of flowers Flowers sent during illness The sensitive plant To a bunch of flowers To the small celandine The ivy The violet -. i To the painted columbine The cypress wreath The faded flowers To the rose Bring flowers - Transplanted flowers Elessed be God for flowers To the bramble flower Children of the sun’s first glancing Language of flowers The star and the water lily - Flowers for the heart The amaranth The wall flower The last rose of summer The rhodora - The evening primrose The winter nosegay The almond tree ran* - 11 14 - 17 19 5 6 CONTENTS. Thi lily - - - ft The Vaarygold - 7(J The l.My - • - 71 Cup.d and the dial - - - 73 The closed convolvulus - - ' - . - 73 Human flowers - - . 74 The dying boy to the sloe blossom - - - 70 Songs and chorus of the flowers - - 80 The narcissus - - - - 88 On receiving a branch of mezereon - . - 83 The little red rose - . - 91 The voice of the flowers - - - - 93 Wild flowers - - • - 95 Cupid inspiring plants with love - - - 97 The alpine violet - - - - 98 To a daisy - - - - 99 The ivy song - » - - - - 100 Daffodils - - - • 109 Adonis’ couch • - n - 103 Flower fantasies - - . - 105 Sonnet - • • - - 108 The flower dial • • • - 109 Spring flowers - . • • - 110 Bowing adorers - - - - 111 Fragment - - - - 119 To a mountain daisy • - - 119 The broken flower . - 115 To the sunflower - - - 116 The rose and the gauntlet - - - 117 The rose • - 119 Heart’s ease • - - 120 The moss rose « . . 121 The hyacinth - • . 129 Flowers for the grave - 123 CONTENTS. 7 Tne queen of the garden • - 12* The cowslip - - - 126 To the round-leafed sundew - - 127 A cypress leaf - r - 128 Wild flowers - • - 132 The jasmine - - 134 To primroses - • 135 The daisy - 136 The married compared to the young rose - 137 The lily - - - 138 The narcissus - - 139 A song of the rose - 140 The rose - - - 142 The captive and the flowers - - - 143 F ragment - - - 146 The violet - - 147 I send the lilies given to me - • - - 148 Faded flowers - - 149 To daffodils - - 150 White roses - - 151 The furze - . - 152 Night blooming flowers - - • 153 The flower garden - - - 156 The fragrant air flower - - 157 The Alpine flowers - * - 159 The mistletoe • - 160 To the primrose - • - 162 The violet - - - - • 165 Faded flowers - • - 166 The roses - - 168 To the snow drop - - • - 169 To the jessamine - - 171 On a faded violet m • - 173 Pawn, gentle flower - - - - 172 8 CONTENTS. The lily and the rase • • 174 The violet - « . 175 The dying girl and flowers - - - 176 The nightshade - '» . 178 The lay of the rose - - • - 179 Emblems of flowers - - . • 188 The orange bough - - - - 189 To the narcissus • - • 190 The harebell - • - 191 Sweet lavender . • • _ 192 The half-blown rose • • . - 193 To the daisy - - - . . 194 Love’s wreath - - - - 197 To a crocus - - - - • 198 Arrangements of a bouquet . - 200 On planting a tulip - - - • 202 To blossoms - • - . • 203 A comparison - - 204 The early primrose . - 205 The holly - - . 205 The narcissus - . - 206 Anacreon to the rose . - 207 Decision of the flower • ■ 209 The snow-drop . . • _ 209 Daffodils - - - 210 The shepherd to the flowers • . 211 Heart’s ease - • - 212 The scarlet geranium • - • . 213 The heliotrope - - - • 215 Amour of the rose - . . • 215 The forget-me-not - . . 216 Field leaves - • 217 The Indian jasmine flower - - - 218 The evening primrose 219 I COST-TENTS, To an early primrose - . 22t The rose-bud • - 222 The garland • . - 225 The field-flowers - 227 To the snow-drop • - 229 Cowslips - • 231 Heart’s ease - - 234 To the sweet-brier - . . 235 A mother’s dirge over her child - 236 The rose - 238 Go to the forest shade - . - 239 To a jasmine tree - - 242 April flowers . - 243 Flowers • • 245 The orchis • • - 246 The daisy in India - - 248 The primrose of the rock • - 250 The rose • 253 The violet • - 253 Field flowers - . 255 In eastern lands - - - - 257 The honey suckle - . 258 To a snow-drop - - - . • - 259 To the passion flower - - 26) The lily ol'the valley - . - 263 The flower garden - - - - 266 The Language of Flowers, - • 307 \ wia POETRY OF FLOWERS. hymn to the flowers. BY HORACE SMITH. Day-stars ! that ope your eyes with man, ta twinkle From rainbow galaxies of earth’s creation, A.nd dew-drops on her holy altars sprinkle As a libation. Ife matin worshippers ! who bending ke. And first—though oft, alas! condemned. Like merit, to the shade— The Primrose meek, with dews begemmed, Shall sparkle in the braid: And there, as sisters, side by side, (Genius with modesty allied,) The Pink’s bright red, the Violet’s blue. In blended rays, shall greet our view, Each lovelier for the othe.r’s hue. How soft yon Jasmine’s sunlit glow, How chaste yon Lily’s robe of snow, With Myrtle green inwove, Types, dearest, of thyself and me— Of thy mild grace and purity, And my unchanging love, Of gTace and purity, like thine, And love, undying love, like mine. A 16 THE POETRY CF FLOWERS. In fancifully plumed array, As ever cloud at set of day, All azure, vermil, silver-gray And showering thick perfume, See ! how the Lilac’s clustered spray Has kindled into bloom, Radiant, as Joy, o’er troubles past, And whispering, Spring is come at last!” Blest Flowers! Tnere breathes not one unfraught With lessons sweet and new ; The Rose, in Taste’s own garden wrought; The Pansy, nurse of tender thought; The Wall-flower, tried and true; The purple Heath, so lone and fair, fO, how unlike the world’s vain glare!) The Daisy, so contently gay, Opening her eyelids with the day; The Gorse-bloom, never sad or sere, But golden-bright, As gems of night, And fresh and fragrant, all the year ; Each leaf, each bud, of classic lore, Oak, Hyacinth, and Floramore ; The Cowslip, graceful ir. her woe; The Hawthorn’s smile, the Poppy’s glow, This ripe with balm for present sorrow, And that, with raptures for to-morrow. THE POETRY OP FLOWERS. 17 The flowers are culled; and each lithe stem With Woodbine band we braid— With Woodbine, type of Life’s best gem, Of Truth, that will not fade: 1 he Wreath is wove; do Thou, blest Power, Tnat brood’st o’er leaflet, fruit, and flower, Embalm it with thy love ; O make it such as angels wear, Pure, bright, as deck’d earth’s first-born pair, Whilst, free in Eden’s grove, Prom herb and plant they brushed the dew, An-i neither sin nor sorrow knew. -♦- THE USE OF FLOWERS. BY MARY HOWITT. God might have bade the earth bring fortfe 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 The ore within the mountain-mine Require th none to grow, 18 the poetry of powers. Nor doth it need the lotus flower To make the river flow The clouds might give abundant ram, The nightly dews might fall, And the herb that keepeth life in man Might yet have drunk them all. Then, wherefore, wherefore were they masl® All dyed with rainbow light; All fashion’d with supremest grace, Up-springing day and night; Springing in valleys green and low, And on the mountains high, And in the silent wilderness, Where no man passes by ? Our outward life requires them not-**” Then wherefore had they birth ? To minister delight to man, To beautify the earth ; * To comfort man—to whisper hope Whene’er his faith is dim ; For who so careth for the flowera. Will much more care for hi rat THR F JETRY OF FLOWERS. 19 FLOWERS: SENT ME DURING ILLNESS. BY RICHARD H. DANA. /. loved you ever, gentle flowers, And made you playmates of my youth; The while your spirit stole In secret to my soul, l o shed a softness through my ripening powers, And lead the thoughtful mind to deepest truth. And now, when weariness and pain Had cast you almost from my breast, With each a smiling face, In all your simple grace, You come once more to take me back again From pain to ease, from weariness to rest. Kind visitants! through my sick room You seem to breathe an air of health, And with your looks 6fjoy To wake again the boy, And to the pallid cheek restore its bloom, And o’er the desert mind pour boundless wealth. And whence ye came, by brimming stream, 'Neath rustling loaves, with birds within, so THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. Again 1 musing tread— 1 Forgot my restless bed, And long, sick hours.—Too short the blessed dream! I woke to pain!—to hear the city’s din! But time nor pain shall ever steal Or youth or beauty from my mind, And blessings on ye, Flowers. Though few with me your hours, The youth and beauty, and the heart to feel, In her who sent you, ye will leave behind! —♦- THE SENSITIVE PLANT. BY SHELLY. PART I. A sensitive plant in a garden grew, And the young winds fed it with silver dew; And it open’d its fan-like leaves to the light, And closed them beneath the kisses of night. And the spring arose on the garden fair, Like the spirit of love, felt every where ! And each flower and herb on earth’s dark breast from the dreams of >ts wintry rest. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 21 The snow-drop, and then the violet, Arose from the ground with warm rain wet; And their breath was mix’d with fresh odour, serf From the turf, like the voice to the instrument. Then the pied wind-flowers, and the tulip tall, And narcissi, the fairest among them all— Who gaze on their eyes in the stream’s recestt. Till they die of their own dear loveliness 1 And the naiad-like lily of the vale, Whom youth makes so fair, and passion so pala, That the light of its tremulous bells is seen Through their paviliois of tender green; And the hyacinth, purple, and white, and blue, Which flung from its bells a sweet peal anew Of music so delicate, soft, and intense, It was felt like an odour within the sense; And the rose like a nymph to the bath addrest, Which unveil’d the depth of her glowing breast. Till, fold after fold, to the fainting air The soul of her beauty and love lay bare; And the wand-like lily, which lifted up, As a Maenad, its moonlight-colour’d cup, Till the fiery star, which is its eye, Gazed through clear dow on *he tender sky ■ 22 THE FOETH'S OF FLOWERS. And the jessamine faint, and the sweet tuberose* The sweetest flower for scent that blows ! And all rare blossoms, from every clime, Grew in that garden in perfect prime. And on the stream whose inconstant bosom Was prankt, under boughs of embowering bios* som, With golden and green light, and starting through Their heaven of many a tangled hue, Broad water-lilies lay tremulously, And starry river-buds glimmer’d by, And around them the soft stream did glide and dance With a motion of sweet sound and radiance. And the sinuous paths of lawn and moss, Which led through the garden along and across— Some open at once to the sun and the breeze, Some lost among bowers of blossoming trees— Were all paved with daisies and delicate bells As fair as the fabulous asphodels, And flowerets which drooping as day droop’d tot* Fell into pavilions white, purple, and blue, To roof the glow-worm from the evening dew. And from this undefiled paradise The flowers (as an infant’s awakening eyes TEE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 23 Smile on its mother, whose singing sweet Can first lull, and at last must awaken it), When heaven’s blithe winds had unfolded them As mine-lamps enkindle a hidden gem, Shone smiling to heaven, and every one Shared joy in the light of the gentle sun ; For each one was interpenetrated With the light and the odour its neighbour shed, Like young lovers whom youth and love make dear, Wrapp’d and fill’d by their mutual atmosphere. But the sensitive plant, which could give small fruit Of the love which it felt from the leaf to the root, Received more than all, it loved more than ever, Where none wanted but it, could belong to the giver. For the sensitive plant has no bright flower ; Radiance and odour are not its dower; It loves, even like Love ; its deep heart is full; It desires what it has not, the beautiful! The light winds, which from unsustaining wings Shed the music of many murmurings; The beams which dart from many a star Of the flowers whose hues they bear afar; 24 THE POETY OF FLOWERS, The plumed insects swift and free. Like golden boats on a sunny sea, Laden with light and odour, which pass Over the gleam of the living grass; The unseen clouds of the dew, which lie Like fire in the flowers till the sun rides high, 1 hen wander like spirits among the spheres. Each cloud faint with the fragrance it bears ; The quivering vapours of dim noon-tide, Which like a sea o’er the warm earth glide, In which every sound, and odour, and beam. Move, as reeds in a single stream; Each and all like ministering angels were For the sensitive plant sweet joy to bear, Whilst the lagging hours of the day went by Like windless clouds o’er a tender sky. And when evening descended from heaven a’jove And the earth was all rest, and the air was all love, And delight, though less bright, was far more deep, And the day’s veil fell from the world of sleep; And the beasts and the birds, and the insect* were drown’d In an ocean of dreams wi.hout a sound; I I THE I OETRY OF FLOWERS. 25 Whaje waves never mark though they ever impress The light sand which paves it, consciousness; Only overhead the sweet nightingale Ever sang more sweet as the day might fail, And snatches of its Elysian chant Were mix’d with the dreams of the sensitive plant;) The sensitive plant was the earliest Up-gathrr’d into the bosom of rest; A sweet child weary of its delight, The fee'Jest and yet the favourite, Cradled within the embrace of nigL FART II. Then was a power in this sweet place, An h '.ve in this Eden; a ruling grace Which to the flowers, did they waken or dream, Was as God is to the starry scheme : A lady, the wonder of her kind, Whose form was upborne by a lovely mind, Which, dilating, had moulded her mien and mo* tion ike a sea-flower unfolded beneath the ocean, 26 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. Tenaed the garden from morn tc even ; And the meteors of that sublunar heaven, Like the lamps of the air when night walks orth, Laugh’d round her footsteps up from the earth! She had no companion of mortal race, But her tremulous breath and her flushing face Told, whilst the morn kiss’d the sleep from hef eyes, That her dreams were less slumber than paradise, As if some bright spirit for her sweet sake Had deserted heaven while the stars were awake, As if yet around her he lingering were,. Though the veil of daylight conceal’d him from her. Her step seem’d to pity the grass it prest; You might hear, by the heaving of her breast, That the coming and the going of the wind Brought pleasure there, and left passion behindi And wherever her airy footstep Wod, . Her trailing hair from the grassy sod Erased its light vestige, with shadowy sweep, Like a sunny storm o’er the dark green deep. I doubt not the flowers of that garden sweet Rejoiced in the sound of her gentle feet; * THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 27 I doubt not they felt the spirit that came From her glowing fingers through all thair frame She sprinkled bright water from the stream On those that were faint'with the sunny beam; And out of the cups of the heavy flowers She emptied the rain of the thunder showers. She lifted their heads with her tender hands, And sustain’d them with rods and osier bands; If the flowers had been her own infants, she Could never have nursed them more tenderly. And all killing insects and gnawing worms, And things of obscene and unlovely forms, She bore in a basket of Indian woof Into the rough woods far aloof. In a basket, of grasses and wild flowers full, The freshest her gentle hands could pull For the poor banish’d insects, whose intent, Although they did ill, was innocent. ** But the bee and the beam-like ephemeris, Whose path is the lightning’s and soft moths trial kiss The sweet lips ot the flowers, and harm not, did she Make hor attendant angels be. 28 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. And many an antenatal tomb, Where butterflies dream of the life to come, She left clinging round the smooth and dark Edge of the odorous cedar bark. This fairest creature from earliest spring Thus moved through the garden ministering, All the sweet season of the summer-tide, And ere the first leaf look’d brown—she died PART III. Three days the flowers of the garden fair, Like stars when the noon is awaken’d, were, Or the waves of the Baiae, ere luminous She floats up through the smoke of Vesuvius. And on the fourth, the sensitive plant Felt the sound of the funeral chant, And the steps of the bearers, heavy and slow, And the sobs of the mourners, deep and low. The weary sound and the heavy breath, And the silent motions of passing death, And the smell, cold, oppressive, and dank, Sent through the pores of the coffin plank ; The dark grass, and the flowers among the grass, Were bright with tears as the crowds did pass • 1 THE POETRY Ox FLOTVEKS. 29 From their sighs *hc wind caught a mournful tone, And sate in the pines, and gave groan for groan./ The garden, once fair, became cold and foul, Like the corpse of her who had been its soul: Which at first was lovely as if in sleep, Then slowly changed, till it grew a heap To make men tremble who never weep. Swift summer into the autumn flow’d, And frost in the mist of the morning rode, Though the noon-day sun look’d clear and bright, Mocking the spoil of the secret night. The rose-leaves, like flakes of crimson snow, Paved the turf and the moss below; The lilies were drooping, and white, and wan, Like the head and the skin of a dying man. And Indian plants, of scent and hue The sweetest that ever were fed on dew, Leaf after leaf, day by day, Were massed into the common clay. And the leaves, brown, yellow, and gray and red And white with the whiteness of what is dead, Like troops of ghosts on the dry wind pass’d; Their whistling noise made the birds aghast. 30 THE I'OETET OF FLOWERS. And tho gusty winds waked the winged seeds Out of their birth-place of ugly weeds, Till they clung round many a sweet flower’s stem, Which rotted into the earth with them. The water-blooms under the rivulet Fell from the stalks on which they were set; And the eddies drove them here and there, As the winds did those of the upper air. Then the rain came down, and the broken stalk* Were bent and tangled across the walks; And the leafless net-work of parasite bowers Mass’d into min, and all sweet flowers. Between the time of the wind and the snow, All loathliest weeds began to grow, Whose coarse leaves were splash’d with many speck, Like the water-snake’s belly and the toad’s back The sensitive plant, like one forbid, Wept, and the tears within each lid Of its folded leaves, which together grew, Were changed to a blight of frozen glue. For the leaves soon fell, and the branches soon By the heavy axe of the blast were hewn; The sap shrank to the root through every pore, As blood to a heart that will beat no more. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. SI Foi Winter came: the wind was his whip One choppy finger was on his lip: He had torn the cataracts from the hills, And they clank’d at his girdle like manacles • His breath was a chain which, without a sound, The earth, and the air, and the water bound; He came, fiercely driven in his chariot throne By the tenfold blasts of the arctic zone. Then the weeds which were form? of living death ( Fled from the frosts to the earth beneath: Their decay and sudden flight from frost, Was but like the vanishing of a ghost! And under the roots of the sensitive plant The moles and the dormice died for want; And the birds dropp’d stiff from the frozen air, And were caught in the branches naked and bare. First there came down a thawing rain, And its dull drops froze on the boughs again, Then there steam’d up a freezing dew Which to the drops of the thaw-rain grew; And a northern whirlwind, wandering about Like a wolf that had smelt a dead child out, Shook the boughs thus laden and heavy and stiff And snapp’d them off with his rigid griff. 32 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. When winter had gone and spring came back. The sensitive-plant was a leafless wreck; But the mandrakes, and toadstools, and docka, at id darnels, Rose like the dead from their buried charnel*. CONCLUSION. Whether the sensitive plant, or that Which within its boughs like a spirit sat, Ere its outward form had known decay, Now felt this change, I cannot say. Whether that lady’s gentle mind, No longer with the form combined, Which scattei’d love, as stars do light, Found sadness where it left delight, I dare not guess; but in this life Of error, ignorance, and strife, Where nothing is, but all things seem, And we the shadows of the dream. It is a modest creed, and yet Pleasant, if one considers it, To own that death itself must be, Like all the rest, a mockery. That garden sweet, that lady fair, And all sweet shapes and odours there THE FOETRY OF FJ.OWERS. J3 /n truth, have never pass’d away: ’Tis we, ’tis ours, are changed ! not they. For love, and beauty, and delight. There is no death nor change ; their might Exceeds our organs, which endure No light, being themselves obscure. TO A BUNCH OF FLOWERS. BY. REV. 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 beauty. Pure affection’s sweetest token, Choicest hint of love unspoken, Friendship in your help rejoices, Lttering her mysterious voices. You are gifts the poor may offer-** Wealth can find no better proffer* For you tell of tastes refined, Thoughtful heart and spirit kind. 3 84 THE POETRY 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 curie, 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, We 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. 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. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 35 So, though your 1 fe 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. —•- TO THE SMALL CELANDINE, WORDSWORTH. Pansies, lilies, king-cups, daisies, Let them live upon their praises; Long as there’s a sun that sets, Primroses will have their glory; Long as there are violets, They will have a place in story: There’s a flower that shall be mine, ’Tis tie little Celandine. 36 THE POETRY OF FLO WEBS. Ere a leaf is on a bush, In the time before the thrush Has a thought about her nest, Thou wilt come with half a call, Spreading out thy glossy breast Like a careless prodigal; Telling tales about the sun, When we’ve little warmth, or none. Comfort have thou of thy merit. Kindly unassuming Spirit! Careless of thy neighbourhood, Thou dost show thy pleasant face On the moor, and in the wood, In the lane ;—there’s not a place,'' Howsoever mean it be, But ’tis good enough for thee. Ill befall the yellow flowers, Children of the flaring hours ! Butter-cups that will be seen, Whether we will see or no; Others, too, of lofty mien ; They have done as worldlings do, Taken praise that should be thine, Little, humble Celandine! Prophet of delight and mirth Ill requited upon earth ; Herald of a mighty band, Of a joyous train ensuing, THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 37 Serving at my heart’s command, Tasks that are no tasks renewing, I will sing, as doth behove, Hymns in praise of what I love! —t— THE IVY. BARTON. Hast thou seen, in winter’s stormiest day, The trunk of a blighted oak, Not dead, but sinking in slow decay Beneath time’s resistless stroke, Round which a luxuriant ivy had grown, And wreathed it with verdure no longer its own J 1 Perchance thou hast seen this sight, and then, As I at thy years might do, Pass’d carelessly by, nor turn’d again That scathed wreck to view. But now I can draw from that mouldering tree Thoughts which are soothing and dear to me. O smile not! nor think it a worthless thing, If it be with instruction fraught; That which will closest and longest cling Is alone worth a serious thought! Should aught be unlovely which thus can shed Grace on the dying, and leaves on the dead? SS THE POETRV IF FLOWERS. THE VIOLET. FKOM THE GERMAN OF GOETHR, A violet blossom’d on the green. With lowly stem, and bloom unseen: It was a sweet, low flower. A shepherd maiden came that way, With lightsome step and aspect gay, Came near, came near, Came o’er the green with song. Ah ! thought the violet, might I be The fairest flower on all the lea, Ah ! but for one brief hour ; And might be plucked by that dear maid, And gently on her bosom laid, Ah ! but, ah ! but A few dear moments long. Alas ! the maiden, as she pass’d, No eye upon the violet cast; She crush’d the poor, wee flower; It sank, and dying, heaved nc sigh, And if I die, at least I die By her, by her, Beneath her feet I die. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 39 TO THE PAINTED COLUMBINE. BY JONES VERY. Bright image of the early years When glow’d my cheek as red as thou, And life’s dark throng of cares and fears Were swift-winged shadows o’er my sunny brow ’• Thou blushest from the painter’s page, Robed in the mimic tints of art; But Nature’s hand in youth’s green age With fairer hues first traced thee on my heart. The morning’s blush, she made it thine, The morn’s sweet breath, she gave it thee; And in thy look, my Columbine ! Each fond-remember’d spot she bade me see. I see the hill’s fty-gazing head, Where gay thou noddest in the gale ; I hear light-bounding footsteps tread The grassy path that winds along the vale. I hear the voice of woodland song Break from each bush and well-known tree, And, on light pinions borne along, Hornes back the laugh from childhood’s heart of glee. <0 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. O’oi the dark rock the dashing brook, NV\th look of anger, leaps again, Ana hastening to each flowery nook, Its distant voice is heard far down the glen, Fair child of art! thy charms decay, Touched by the wither’d hand of Time: And hushed the music of that day, When my voice mingled with the streamlet’s chi/ne; But on my heart thy cheek of bloom Shall live when Nature’s smile has fled; And rich with memory’s sweet perfume, Shall o’er her grave thy tribute incense shed. There shalt thou live and wake the glee That echoed on thy native hill; And when, loved flower! I think of thee, My infant feet will seem to seek thee still. THE CYPRESS WREATH. BY SIR W. SCOTT. O lady, rwine no wreath for me, Or twine it of the cypress-tree ! Too lively glow the lilies light, The varnish’d holly’s all too 1 -ight. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 41 The May-flower and the eglantine May shade a brow less sad than mine; But, lady, weave no wreath for me, Or weave it of the cypress-tree. Let dimpled Mirth his temples twine With tendrils of the laughing vine ; The manly oak, the pensive yew, To patriot and to sage be due ; The myrtle bough bids lovers live, But that Matilda will not give ; Then, lady, twine no wreath for me, Or twine it of the cypress-tree. Let merry England proudly rear Her blended roses, bought so dear; Let Albin bind her bonnet blue With heath and harebell dipp’d in dew ; On favour’d Erin’s crest be seen The flower she loves of emerald green— But, lady, twine no wreath for me, Or twine it of the cypress-tree. Strike the wild harp, while maids prepare The ivy meet for minstrel’s hair ; And while his crown of laurel leaves With bloody hand the victor weaves, Let the loud trump his triumph tell; But when you hear the passing bell, Then, lady, twine a wreath for me, And twine it of ills cypress-tree. 42 THE POETRY OF FLJWERS. Yes ! twine for me the cypress bough \ But, O Matilda, twine not now— Stay till a few brief months are past, And I have look’d and loved my last! When villagers my shroud bestrew With pansies, rosemary, and rue,— Then, lady, weave a wreath for me, And weave it of the cypress-tree. - ♦ - THE FADED FLOWERS. BY. REV. WALTER COLTON, U. S. N. TC THE LADY WHO PRESENTED THE AUTHOR WITH A CLUSTER OF FADED FLOWERS. These faded flowers a softer grief Than blooming ones beget; More tender now on each pale leaf The tints that linger yet: For all the charms, that cheer’d the past, Hang round these hues that fade the last. The morn they had their fragrant birth, The wild shrubs where they grew, The bee that in its matin mirth Hung over their pearls of dew, Must share alike the floweret’s lot, And be with frailer things forgot. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 43 Not thus with thee in that dim day, When, like the breath of flowers, Thy spirit leaves its vase of clay, For love in those lone hours, Shall treasure up thy gentle worth And warm remembrance call it forth, And in a brighter, purer sphere, Beyond the sunless tomb— The virtues, that have charmed us here, In fadeless life shall bloom ; And win from faith the fervid prayer, To meet thy sainted spirit there. - o - TO THE ROSE. BY C. P. CRANCH. Dear flower of heaven and love ! Thou glorioul thing That lookest out the garden nooks among: Rose, that art ever fair and ever young; Was it some angel or invisible wing Hovered around thy fragrant sleep, to fling His glowing mantlo of warm sunset hues O’er thy unfolding petals, wet with dews Such as the flower-fays to Titania bring ? O flower of thousand memories and dreams, That take the heart with faintness, while we gaze a THE P0E1RY OF FLOWERS. On the rich depths of Ihy inwoven maze ; From the green banks of Eden’s blessed streams I dream’d thee brought, of brighter days to tell, Long pass’d, but promised yet with us to dwell. —•- BRING FLOWERS. MRS. HEMANS. Bring flowers, young flowers, for the festal board. To wreathe the cup ere the wine is pour’d; Bring flowers! they are springing in wood and vale, Their breath floats out on the southern gale, And the touch of the sunbeam hath waked th* rose. To deck the hall where the bright wine flows. Bring flowers to strew in the conqueror’s path— He hath shaken thrones with his stormy wrath ’ He comes with the spoils of nations back, The vines he crush’d in his chariot’s track, The turf looks red where he won the day— Bring flowers to die in the conqueror’s way ! Bring flowers to the captive’s lonely cell, They have tales of the joyous woods to tel); Of the free blue streams, and the glowing sky, And the blight world shut from his languid eye; THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 43 They will bear him a thought of the sunny hours, And a dream of his youth—bring him flowers, wild flowers. Bring flowers, fresh flowers, for the bride to wear! They were born to blush in her shining hair. She is leaving the home of her childhood’s mirth, She hath bid farewell to her father’s hearth. Her place is now by another’s side— Bring flowers for the locks of the fair young bride. Bring flowers, pale flowers, o’er the bier to shed, A crown for the brow of the early dead! For this through its leaves hath the wild rose burst, For this in the woods was the violet nursed ! Though they smile in vain for what once was ours, They are love’s last gift—bring ye flowers, pale flowers!— Bring flowers to the shrine where we kneel in prayer, They are Nature’s offering, their place is there! They speak of hope to the fainting heart, With a voice of promise they come and part, They sleep in dust through the wintry hours, They break forth in glory—bring flowers, bright flcwers! THE FOETRV OF FLOWERS. TRANSPLANTED FLOWERS. BY E. ELLIOTT. Ye living gems of cold and fragrant fire ! Die ye for ever, wjien ye die, ye flowers ? TaKe ye, when in your beauty ye expire, An everlasting farewell of your bowers ? No more to listen for the wooing air, And song-brought morn, the cloud-tinged wood lands o’er! No more to June’s soft lip your breasts to bare, And drink fond evening’s dewy breath no more ! Soon fades the sweetest, first the fairest dies, For frail and fair are sisters; but the heart, Fill’d with deep love, death’s power to kill denies. And sobs e’en o’er the dead, “We cannot part!’' Have I not seen thee, Wild Rose, in my dreams f Like a pure spirit—beauteous as the skies, When the clear blue is brighest, and the streams Dance down the hills, reflecting the rich dyes Of morning clouds, and cistus woodbine-twined— Didst thou not wake me from a dream of death t Yea, and thy voice was sweeter than the wind When it inhales the love-sick violet’s breath, Bending it down with kisses, where the bee Hums over golden gorse, and sunny broom, Soul il the R ise' What saidst thou then to me I THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 47 ** We meet,” thou said’st, “ tnough sever’d by the tomb: ho, brother, this is heav’n! And thus the jusl shall bloom.’ ’ —$— BLESSED BE GOD FO"R FLOWERS. Suggested by seeing my youngest child asleep, with Wild Flowers grasped in its hand. BY MRS. CHARLES TINSLEY. Blessed be God for flowers! For the bright, gentle, holy thoughts, that breathe From out their odorous beauty, like a wreath Of sunshine on life’s hours ! Lightly upon thine eye Hath fallen the noon-tide sleep, my joyous bird : And through thy parted lips the breath, scarce heard, Comes like a summer sigh. One rosy hand is thrown Beneath thy rosier cheek: the other holds A group of sweet field-flowers, whose bloom unfolds A freshness like thine own. 48 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. Around the fragrant prize, With eager grasp thy little fingers close : What are the dreams that haunt thy soft repose I What radiance greets thine eyes ? For thou art smiling still; Art thou yet wandering in the quiet woods. Plucking th’ expanded cups and bursting buds, At thine unfetter'd will ? Or does some prophet voice Murmuring amidst thy dreams, instructive say, “ Prize well these flowers, for thou, beyond to-day, Shalt in their spells rejoice !” Yes! thou wilt learn their power, When, cherish’d not as now, thou stand’st alone, Compass’d by sweetly saddening memories, thrown Round thee by leaf or flower! ’Twill come! as seasons come, The empire of the flowers, when these shall raise Round thee once more the forms of other days. Warm with the light ol home ! Shapes thou no more may’st see ; The household hearth, the heart-enlisted prayer s THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 49 All thou hast loved, and lost, and treasured there. Where thy best thoughts must be! Ay, prize them well, my child— The bright, young blooming things that never die— Pointing our hopes to happier worlds, that he Far o’er this earthly wild ! TO THE BRAMBLE FLOWER. BY E. ELLIOTT. Thy fruit full-well the schoolboy knows, Wild bramble of the brake ! So, put thou forth thy small white rose; I love it for his sake Though woodbines flaunt and roses glow O'er all the fragrant bowers, Thou need’st not be ashamed to show Thy satin-threaded flowers; For dull the eye, the heart is dull That cannot feel how fair, Amid all beauty, beautiful Thy tender blossoms are ! How delicate thy gauzy frill! How rich thy branchy stem ! How soft thy voice, when woods aro atiU, And thou sing’st hymns to them ; 4 §0 THE POETRY OF FI OWEBS. While silent showers are falling slow And, ’mid the general hush, A sweet air lifts the little bough, Lone whispering through the bush ! The primrose to the grave is gone; The hawthorn flower is dead ; The violet by the moss’d gray stone Hath laid her weary head ; But thou, wild bramble ! back dost bring, In all their beauteous power, The fresh green days of life’s fair spring, And boyhood’s blossomy hour. Scorn’d bramble of the brake ! once mor8 Thou bidd’st me be a boy, To gad with thee the woodland’s o’ei In freedom and in joy. —« - CHILDREN OF THE SUN’S FIRST GLANCING. FROM SCHILLER. Children of the sun’s first glancing, Flowers that deck the bounteous earth; Joy and mirth are round ye dancing, Nature smiled upon your birth ; Light hath veined your petals tender, And with hues of matchless splendour THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. g Flora paints each dewy bell. But lament, ye sweet spring blossoms, Soul hath never thrilled your bosoms, All in cheerless night ye dwell. Nightingale and lark are singing Many a lay of love to you: In your chaliced blossoms swinging, Tiny sylphs their sylphids woo : Deep within the painted bower Of a soft and perfumed flower, Venus once did fall asleep: But no pulse of passion darted Through your breast, by her imparted— Children of the morning, weep. When my mother’s harsh rejection Bids me cease my love to speak,— Pledges of a true affection, When your gentle aid I seek,— Then by every voiceless token, Hope, and faith unchanged, are spoken; And by you my bosom grieves: Love himself among you stealeth And his awful form concealeth, Shut within your folding leaves. 62 THE F0ETY OF FLOWERS, LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. BY H. W. LONGFELLOW. Siake full well, in language quaint and dden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers so blue and golden. Stars, that in earth’s firmament do shine. Stars they are, wherein we read our history, As astrologers and seers of eld ; Yet not wrapp’d about with awful mystery, Like the burning stars, which they beheld. Wondrous truths, and manifold as wondrous, God hath written in those stars above; But not less in the bright flowerets under us Stands the revelation of his love. Bright and glorious is that revelation,, Written all over this great world of ours; Making evident our own creation, In these stars of earth,—these golden flowers, And the Poet, faithful and far-seeing, Sees alike in stars and flowers, a part Of the self-same, universal Being, Which is throbbirg in his brain and heart* THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 53 Gorgeous flowerets in the sunlight shir.Ing, Blossoms flaunting in the eye of day, Tremulous leaves, with soft and silver lining, Buds that open only to decay; Brilliant hopes, all woven in gorgeous tissues, Flaunting gaily in the golden light; Large desires, with most uncertain issues, Tender wishes, blossoming at night! These in flowers and men are more than seeming Workings are they of the self-same powers. Which the poet, in no idle dreaming, Seeth in himself and in the flowers. Every where about us are they glowing, Some like stars, to tell us Spring is born; "Others, their blue eyes with tears o’erflowing, Stand like Ruth amid the golden corn; Not alone in Spring’s armorial bearing, And in Summer’s green-emblazoned field, But in arms of brave old Autumn's wearing, In the centre of his brazen shield; Not alone in meadows and green alleys, On the mountain-top, and by the brink Of sequestered pools in woodland valleys, Where the slaves of Nature stoop to drink i 54 THE POETRT OF FLOWERS. Not alone in her vast dome of glory, Not on graves of bird and beast alone, But in old cathedrals, high and hoary, On the tombs of heroes, carved in ston 3 ; In the cottage of the rudest peasant, In ancestral homes, whose crumbling towers, Speaking of the Past unto the Present, Tell us of the ancient Games of Flowers ; In all places, then, and in all seasons, Flowers expand their light and soul-liko wings. Teaching us, by most persuasive reasons, How akin they are to human things. And with child-like, credulous affection. We behold their tender buds expand;— Emblems of our own great resurrection, Emblems of the bright and better land. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 55 THE STAR AND THE WATER-LILY. BY O. W. HOLMES. The Sun stepp’d down from his golden throne. And lay in the silent sea, And the Lily had folded her satin leaves. For a sleepy thing was she ; What is the Lily dreaming of t Why crisp the waters blue ? See, see, she is lifting her varnish’d lid! Her white leaves are glistening through ? The Rose is cooling his burning cheek In the lap of the breathless tide ; The Lily hath sisters fresh and fair, That would lie by the Rose’s side; He would love her better than all the rest. And he would be fond and true; But the Lily unfolded her weary lids, And look’d at the sky so blue. Remember, remember, thou silly one, How fast will thy summer glide, And .wilt thou wither a virgin pale, Or flourish a blooming bride ? “ O, the Rose is old, and thorny, and cold, And he lives on earth,” said she; * But the Star is fair and he lives in the air. And he shall my bridegroom be.” 56 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. But what if the stormy cloud should coma, And ruffle the silver sea ? Would he turn his eye from the distant sky, To smile on a thing like thee ? O, no ! fair Lily, he will not send One ray from his far-off throne ; The winds shall blow and the waves shall flo\f| And thou wilt be left alone. There is not a leaf on the mountain-top, Nor a drop of evening dew, Nor a golden sand on the sparkling shore, Nor a pearl in the waters blue, That he has not cheer’d with his fickle smile And warm’d with his faithless beam,— And will he be true to a pallid flower, That floats on the quiet stream ? Alas, for the Lily ! she would not heed, But turn’d to the skies afar. And bared her breast to the trembling ray That shot from the rising star; The cloud came over the darken’d sky, And over the waters wide ; She look’d in vain through the beating rain, And sank in the stormy tide. j iJbe * THE F0ETRT OF FLOWERS. 57 FLOWERS FOR THE HEART. BY E. ELLIOTT. Flowers ! winter flowers ‘ —the child is dead. The mother cannot speak: O softly couch his little head, Or Mary’s heart will break ! Amid those curls of flaxen hair This pale pink riband twine, And on the little bosom there Place this wan lock of mine. How like a form in cold white stone, The coffin’d infant lies! Look, Mother, on thy little one ! And tears will fill thine eyes. She cannot weep, more faint she growa^ More deadly pale and still: Flowers ! oh, a flower! a winter rose, That tiny hand to fill. Go, search the fields ! the lichen wet Bends o’er th’ unfailing well; Beneath the furrow lingers yet The scarlst pimpernel. 46 THE POETR'S OF FLOWERS. Peeps not a snowdrop in the bower, Where never froze thn spring ? A daisy? Ah! bring childhood’s flower1 The half blown daisy bring ! Yes, lay the daisy’s little head Beside the little cheek; O haste ! the last of five is dead! The childless cannot speak ! —♦— THE AMARANTH. Crowns inwove with Amaranth and gold, Immortal Amaranth, a flower, which once In Paradise, fast by the Tree of Life, Began to bloom ; but soon, for man’s offence, To Heaven removed, where first it grew, there grows And flowers aloft, shading the Fount of Life, And where the River of Bliss, through midst ot Heaven, Rolls o’er Elysian flowers her amber stream; With these, that never fade, the spirits elect, Bind thm resplendent locks. Milton I I rfHE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 5* I THE WALL-FLOWER BY D. M. MOIR. The wall-flower—the wall-flower. How beautiful it blooms ! It gleams above the ruin’d tower, Like sunlight over tombs ; It sheds a halo of repose Around the wrecks of time ;— To beauty give the flaunting rose. The wall-flower is sublime. Flower of the solitary place ! Gray ruin’s golden crown! Thou lendest melancholy grace To haunts of old renown; Thou mantlest o’er the battlement, By strife or storm decay’d ; And fillest up each envious rent Time’s canker-tooth hath made. Whither hath fled, the choral band That fill’d the abbey’s nave? Yon dark sepulchral yew-trees strnd O’er many a level grave ; In the belfry’s crevices, the dove Her young brood nurseth well. Whilst thou, lone flower ! dost shed above A sweet decaying smell. i 40 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS In the season of the tulip cup, When blossoms clothe the trees. How sweet to throw the lattice up, And scent thee on the breeze! The Butterfly is then abroad, The bee is on the wing, And on the hawthorn by the road The linnets sit and sing. Sweet wall-flower—sweet wall-floweil Thou conjurest up to me, Full many a soft and sunny hour Of boyhood’s thoughtless glee ; When joy from out the daises grew In woodland pastures green, And summer skies were far more blue Than since they e’er have been. Now autumn’s pensive voice is heard Amid the yellow bowers, The robin is the regal bird, And thou the queen of flowers! He sings on the laburnum trees, Amid the twilight dim, And Araby ne’er gave the breeze Such scents as thou to him. Rich is the pink, the lily gay, The rose is summer’s guest; Bland are thy charms when these decay*' Of flowers, first, last, and best! THE FOETRY OF FLOWERS. £] There may be gaudier on the bower, And statelier on the tree ; But wall-flower, loved wall-flower, Thou art the flower for me ! —♦- THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER BY T. MOORE. ’Tis the last rose of summer Left blooming alone, All her lovely companions Are faded and gone ; No flower of her kindred, No rose-bud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes And give sigh for sigh. I’ll not leave thee, thou lone one To pine on the stem ; Since the lovely are sleeping, Go sleep thou with them. Thus kindly I scatter Thy leaves on the bed, Where thy mates of the garden Lie scentless and dead. So soon may I follow When friendships decay, And from love’s shining circle The gems drop away : it 62 the poetry of flowers. When true hearts lie wither’d And fond ones are flown, Oh ! who would inhabit This cold world alone ? THE RHODORA. LINES or BEING ASKED, WHENCE IS THE FLOWER I BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON. In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes, I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods, Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook, To please the desert and the sluggish brook; The purple petals, fallen in the pool, Made the black waters with their beauty gay; Young Raphael might covet such a school; The lively show beguiled me from my way. Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why This charm is wasted on the marsh and sky, Dear, fell them, that if eyes were made for seeing Then beauty is its own excuse for being. Why, thou wert there, O, rival of the rose ! I never thought to ask, I never knew. But in my simple ignorance suppose The selfsame Power that brought me there, brought you. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. THE EVENING- PRIMROSE. BY G. LANGHORNE. There are that love the shades of life, And shun the splendid walks of fame There are that hold it rueful strife To risk Ambition’s losing game ; That far from envy’s lurid eye The fairest fruits of genius rear, Content to see them bloom and die In friendship’s small but kindly sphere. Than vainer flowers, though sweeter far, The Evening Primrose shuns the day; Blooms only to the western star, And loves its solitary ray. In Eden’s vale an aged hind, At the dim’s twilight’s closing hour, On his time-smoothed staff reclined, With wonder view’d the opening flowaR “ Ill-fated flower, at eve to blow,” (In pity’s simple thought he cries,) “ Thy bosom must not feel the glow Of splendid suns, or smiling skies. 64 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. “ Nor thee the vagrants of the field, The hamlet’s little train behold; Their eyes to sweet oppression yield, When thine the falling shades unfold. 41 Nor thee the hasty shepherd heeds, When love has fill’d his heart with cares; For flowers he rifles all the meads ; For walking flowers—but thine forbears Ah! waste no more that beauteous bloom, On night’s chill shade that fragrant breatfe. Let smiling suns those gems illume ? Fair flower! to live unseen is death 1” Soft as the voice of vernal gales That o’er the bending meadows blow, Or streams that steal through even vales, And murmur that they move so slow. Deep in her unfrequented bower, Sweet Philomela pour’d her strain ; The bird of eve approved her flower, And answer’d thus the anxious swain :■* “Live unseen! By moonlight shades, in valleys green, Lovely flower, we’ll live unseen. Of our pleasures deem not lightly, . Laughing day may look more sprightly THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 8 But I love the modest mien, Still I love the modest mien Of gentle evening fair, and her star-train’d qnecm “ Didst thou, shepherd, never find Pleasure is of pensive kind ? Has thy cottage never known That she loves to dwell alone ? Dost thou not at evening hour Feel some soft and secret power Gliding o’er thy yielding mind, Leave sweet serenity behind, While, all disarm’d, the cares of day Steal through the falling gloom awav f Love to think thy lot was laid In this undistinguish’d shade. Far from the world’s infectious view Thy little virtues safely blew. Go, and in day’s more dangerous bov t Guard thy emblematic flower.” 5 66 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. THE WINTER NOSEGAY. BY WILLIAM COWPER. What nature, alas! has denied To the delicate growth of our isle, Art has in a measure supplied, And winter is deck’d with a smile. See, Mary, what beauties I bring From the shelter of that sunny shed, Where the flowers have the charms of the spring Though abroad they are frozen and dead. 'Tis a bower of Arcadian sweets, Where Flora is still in her prime, A fortress to which she retreats From the cruel assaults of the clime. While earth wears a mantle of snow, These pinks are as fresh and as gay As the fairest and sweetest that blow On the beautiful bosom of May. See how they have safely survived The powers of a sky so severe; Such Mary’s true love, that has lived Through many a turbulent year. The charms of the late-blowing rose Seem graced with a livelier hue, And the winter of sorrow best show* The truth of a friend such as you. THE POETRY IF FLOWERS. SI THE ALMOND-TREE. BY MISS LANDOlf. Fieeting and falling, Where is the bloom Of yon fair Almond-tree t It is sunk in the tomb. Its tomb wheresoever The wind may have borne The leaves and the blossoms Its roughness has torn. Some there are floating On yon fountain’s breast,— Some line the moss Of the nightingale’s nest,— Some are just strewn O’er the green grass below, And there they lie stainless As winter’s first snow. Yesterday, on the boughs They hung scented and fair; To-day they are scatter’d The breeze best knows wher*> 68 THE IGETRY OF ^LOWERS. To-morrow those leaves Will be scentless and dead,. For the kind to lament And the careless to tread. And is it not thus With each hope of the heart! With all its best feelings ?— Thus will they depart: They’ll go forth to the world On the wings of the air, Rejoicing and hoping ; But what will be there ?— False lights to deceive, False friends to delude, Till the heart in its sorrow’s Left only to brood. Over feelings crush’d, chill’d. Sweet hopes ever flown; Like that tree when its green leww And blossoms are gone. TJ*5 POETRY OF FLOWERS. ® THE LILY. BY JAMES G. PERCIVAL. 1 had found out a sweet green spot Where a lily was blooming fair; The din of the city disturb’d it not; But the spirit that shades the quiet cot With its wings of love was there. I found that lily’s bloom When the day was dark and chill: It smiled like a star in a misty gloom, And it sent abroad a sweet perfume, Which is floating around me still. I sat by the lily’s bell, And watch’d it many a day :— The leaves, that rose in a flowing swell, Grew faint and dim, then droop’d and fell, And the flower had flown away. I look’d where the leaves were laid, In withering paleness, by; And as gloomy thoughts stole on me, said, There’s many a sweet and blooming maid Who will soon as dimly die. 70 the poetry of flowers. THE MARYGOLD. BY G. WITHERS. When with a serious musing, I behold The grateful and obsequious Marygold, How duly, every morning, she displays Her open breast when Phcebus spreads hi,3 ray« • How she observes him in his daily walk, Still bending tow’rds him her small slender stalk; How, when he down declines, she droops and mourns, Bedew’d as ’twere with tears, till he returns; And how she veils her flowers when he is gone, As if she scorned to be look’d upon By an inferior eye; or did contemn To wait upon a meaner light than him: When this I meditate, methinks the flowers Have spirits far more generous than ours, And give us fair examples to despise The servile fawnings and idolatries Wherewith we court these earthly things below Which merit not the service we bestow, But 0, my God ! though grovelling I appear Upon the ground, and have a rooting here Which hales me downward, yet in my desire To that which is above me I aspire, And all my best affections I profess To Him that is the Sun of Righteousness. THE POETRY CF FLOWERS. Oh! »ceep the morning of his incarnation, The burning noon-tide of his bitter passion, The night of his descending, and the height Of his ascension,—ever in my sight, That, imitating him in what 1 may, E never follow an inferior way. THE LILY. BY SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. The stream with languid murmur creeps In Lumin’s flow’ry vale: Beneath the dew the lily weeps, Slow waving to the gale. *■' Cease, restless gale!” it seems to say “Nor wake me with thy sighing! The honours of my vernal day On rapid wings are flying. *■ tl To-morrow shall the traveller come Who late beheld me blooming; His searching eye shall vainly roam The dreary vale otf Lumin. ’ r l* THE POETRY OP FLOWERS. CUPID AND THE DIAL. One day, young frolic Cupid tried To scatter roses o’er the hours, And on the dial’s face to hide The course of time with many flowers. By chance, hi3 rosy wreaths had wound Upon the hands, and forced them on; And when he look’d again, he found The hours had pass’d, the time was done a ‘Alas !” said love, and dropp’d his flower*, “ I’ve lost my time in idle play ; The sweeter I would make the hours, The quicker they are pass’d away.’ —♦-- THE CLOSED CONVOLVULUS. An hour ago, and sunny beams Were glancing o’er each airy bell ; And thou wert drinking in those gleams, Like beauty listening love’s farewell. And now with folded drooping leaves, Thou seemest for that light to mourn, Like unto one who fondly grieves The hours that st**» some friend’s return# THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. We cannot trace the hidden power Which folds thine azure petals up. When evening shadows dimly lower, And dew-drops gem each floweret’s cup, Methinks I should not wish to be Like thee, a votary of the sun, To bask beneath his beams, yet fle6 Whene’er his brilliant race is run. O dearer far the silent night, And lovelier far the star-lit sky, Than gaudy day with sunbeams bright, And loud with nature’s minstrelsy. The night-bird’s song is not for thee, The beautiful, the silver moon, The holy calm o’er flowers and tree ; The stillness—nature’s dearest boon. Thou art a reveller of day, A fair, rejoicing child of light; Glad, while the sunbeams o’er thee play, But drooping in the quiet night. Like unto those who freely spend Their kindness in our happier hours But should affliction want a friend, Thej prove the sun’s adoring flowers. 74 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. HUMAN FLOWERS BY WILLIAM HOWITT. SweeT Lucy has chosen the lily, as pale, And as lowly as she, still the pride of the vale: An emblem more fitting, so fair and retired, Heart could not have chosen, nor fancy desired. And Ellen, gay Ellen, a symbol as true, In the hare-bell has found, and its delicate blue. For ever the blossoms are fresh in her eyes, As dewy, as sweet, and more soft than the skies. And Jane, in her thoughtfulness, conscious of power, Has gazed in her fervour on many a flower: Has chosen, rejected, then many combined To blazon her graces of person and mind. Whilst Isabel’s face, like the dawn, in one flush— Far need she net wander to bank and to bush; Well the tint of her cheek the young Isabel knows, For the blossom of health is the beautiful rose. And Mary, the pensive, who loves in the dusk Of the gardens to muse, when the air is all musk j Will leave all its beauties, and many they are, To gaze, meek in though? on the jessamine star. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 75 And Kate, the light butterfly Kate, ever gay, Will choose the first blossom that comes in way: The cistus will please her a moment, and then Away will she flutter, and settle again. But Julia for me, with her heart in her eyes, The child of the summer, too warm to be wise: Is the passion-flower near her, with tendrils close curled, She can smile whilst she suffers ; ’tis hers for the world. All are lovely, all blossom of heart and of mind All true to their natures, as Nature design’d; To cheer and to solace, to strengthen, caress, And with love that can die not to buoy and to bless. With gentleness might, and with weakness, what grace! Revelations from Heaven in form and on face; Like the bow in the cloud, like the flower on the sod, Thej ascend and descend in my dreams as from God. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. *6 THE DYING BOY TO THE SLOB BLOSSOM. BY E. ELLIOTT. Before thy leaves thou com’st once moie, 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 flower, 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. 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 lova Sing to the sun. THE POETRY OP FI OWiRS. ' And where the rose-leaf, ever bold. Hears bees chant hymns to God, The breeze-bow’d palm, moss’d o’er with gold, Smiles o’er the well in summer cold, And dasied 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. 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 sweet Sabbaths chime'. But, thine before my time, oh, death! I go where no flow’r blossometh, Before my time. 78 THE POETRV OF FLOWERS, 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 eya Into the tomb. He lived and loved—will sorrow say— - By early sorrows tried ; He smiled, he sigh’d, he pass’d away i 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 kies,™ They sigh adieu. THE POETRY OP FIj.'WERS. 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. Then panting woods the breeze will feel And bowers, as heretofore, Beneath their load of roses reel: But I through woodbine lanes shall steal No more, no mor«. Well, lay me by my brother’s side, Where late we stood and wept; For I was stricken when he died**”' i felt the arrow as he sigh’d His last, nd Kagtu BO THE POETRY OF FLOWER? SONGS AND CHORUS OF TUB FLOWERS. BY LEIGH HUNT. ■ ROSES. We are blushing roses, Bending with our fulness, ’Midst our close-capp’d sister bud» Warming the green coolness. Whatsoe’er of beauty Yearns and yet reposes, Blush, and bosom, and sweet breath, Took a shape m roses. Hold one of us lightly,— See from what a slender Stalk we bower in heavy blooms, And roundness rich and tender t Know you not our only Rival flower,—the human f Loveliest weight on lightest foot, Joy-abundant woman? I ■ME POETRY OF FLOWERS. 81 LILIES. We are lilies fair, The flower of virgin light; Nature held us forth, and said, “ Lo! my thoughts of white ’ Ever since then, angels Hold us in their hands ; You may see them where they taka 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. POPPIES. We are slumbering poppies, Lords of Lethe downs, Some awake, and some asleep, Sleeping in our crowns. What perchance our dreams mav know, Let A love—oh God ! it seems so—’that must flow Far as thou fleest, and ’twixt heaven and me, Henceforward, be a bright and yearning chain Drawing me after thee ! And so, farewell! 'Tis a harsh world, in which affection knows No place to treasure vp its loved and lost But the foul grave ! Thou, who so late was! sleeping Warn; ir. the close fold of a mother’s heart {24 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. Scare 2 from her breast a single pulse receiring But it was sent thee with some tender thought, How can I leave thee —here ! Alas for man 1 The herb in its humility may fall And waste into the bright and genial air, While we—by hands that ministered in life Nothing but love to us—are thrust away— The earth flung in upon our just cold bosoms, And the warm sunshine trodden out for ever ' Yet have I chosen for thy grave, my child, A bank where I have lain in summer hours, And thought how little it would seem like death To sleep amid such loveliness. The brook, Tripping with laughter down the rocky steps That lead up to thy bed, would still trip on, Breaking the dread hush of the mourners gone; The birds are never silent that build here, Trying to sing down the more vocal waters; The slope is beautiful with moss and flowers, And far below, seen under arching leaves, Glitters the warm sun on the village spire, Pointing the living after thee. And this Seems like a comfort; and, replacing now The flowers that have made room for thee, I go To whisper the same peace to her who lies— Robb’d of her child and lonely. ’Tis the work Of many a dark hour, and of many a prayer, To bring the heart back from an infant gone. Hope must give o’er, and busy fancy bio The images from all the silent rooms, THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 125 And every sight and sound familiar to hei Undo its sweetest link—and so at last The fountain—that, once struck, must flow foi ever— Will hide and waste in silence. When the smile Steals to her pallid lip again, and spring Wakens the buds above thee, we will come, And, standing by thy music-haunted grave, Look on each other cheerfully, and say:— A child Lhat we have loved is gone to heaven, Arid by this gate of flowers she pass'd away ! THE QUEEN OF THE GARDEN BY MOORE. If Jove would give the leafy bowers A queen for all their world of flowers, The Rose would be the choice of Jove And reign the queen of every grove. Sweetest child of weeping morning, Gem, the vest of earth adorning, Eye of flowerets, glow of lawns, Bud of beauty, nursed by dawns ; Soft the soul of love it breathes; Cypria’s brow with magic wreathes; And to the zephyr’s warm caresses Diffuses all its verdant tresses, Till, glowing with the wanton's play. It blushes a diviner ray! 126 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 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 lustrious 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. 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 ol heaven; THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 187 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.” -*— TO THE ROUND-LEAFED SUNDEW. By the lone fountain’s secret bed, Where human footsteps rarely tread, ’Mid the wild moor of silent glen, The Sundew blooms unseen by men; Spreads there her leaf of rosy hue, A chalice for the morning dew, And, ere the summer’s sun can rise, Drinks the pure waters of the skies. Wouldst thou that thy lot were given. Thus to receive the dews of heaven, With heart prepared, like this meek flowet * Come, then, and hail the dawning houT; So shall a Messing from on high, Pure as the rain of summer’s sky, 128 THE PGETR? OF FLOWERS. Unsullied as the morning dew, Descend, and all thy soul imbue. Yes ! like the blossoms of the waste Would we the sky-born waters taste, To the High Fountain’s sacred spring The chalice let us humbly bring : So shall we find the streams of heaven To him who seeks art freely given ; The morning and the evening dew Shall still our failing strength renew. - * - A CYPRESS LEAF, FOR THE GRAVE OF A DEAR ONE. The feelings I have felt have died away, The love that was my lamp death’s dews have quench’d ; The faith which, through life’s ills, ne’er knew decay, Hath in the chill showers of the grave been drench’d ; The hopes that buoyed my spirit ’mid the spray Of life’s wild ocean, one by one are wrench’d— Cruelly wrench'd away,—and I am now A solitary leaf on a rent bough ! The link that knit me to mankind is snapp’d— Briefly it bound me to a callous world; TAE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 12$ The fortress of my comfort hath been sapp’d— Where are Joy’s banners, lighlsomely unfurl’d, That graced the battlements? In vapor wrapp’d In the dense smoke of stifled breath upcurl’d, They drop in tatters—forming now a pall For the sad mummy-heart that drips with gall. I have not now of broken troth to wail, I have not now to speak of friendship broken; Of Death and Death’s wild triumphs is my tale™* Of friendship faithful, and of love’s last token, A ring !—whose holy motto ne’ei shall fail To rouse such sorrow as may ne’er be spoken That pictured Dove and Branch—those word* ‘ La Paix /’ ;0 direful mockery !) wear my heart away!* 1 Peace V —Peace ! alas, there is no peace for me. It rests with thee, beloved one ! in the grave ! Y"et, when I search the cells of Memory, Where silently the subterranean wave Of buried hope glides on, a thought of thee— Like sunshine on the hermit’s darkened cave— Steals gently o’er my spirit, whispering sweet Of realms beyond the tomb, where we shall meet! * A melancholy anecdote is attached to these lines j (he motto ‘ La Paix’ was engraven on the bequeathed ?ift of a beloved friend, who, in the bloom of youth fell a victim to t sudden and violer.t death in India. 9 130 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. Our love—how did it spring ? In sooth it grew Even as some rare exotic in a clime Unfriendly to its growth : yet rich in hue. Voluptuous in fragrance, as if Time Had oeen to it all sunlight and soft dew,— As if upon its freshness the cold rime Of death should never fall! How came it then! Even as the manna fell ’midst famish’d men. To be snatch’d up in transport! And we fed Upon affection’s banquet, that ne’er pall’d Upon the spirit’s palate ! Friendship shed A light around our bosoms which recall’d The memory of that bard, whose soul was wed- With love surpassing woman’s love, ungall’d By selfish doubts—to him, the monarch’s son, Brave Jonathan! Like their’s, our souls were one* Oh ! long we loved in silence ! Neither spake Of that which work’d the thoughtful mine within;— Thou didst not guess that, sleeping or awake, My thoughts were full of thee till thought grew sin: For it is sin of earthly things to make Our idols ! and I never hoped to win Thy coveted affection ; but for me, Thy heart was als J yearning silently ' THE POETKY OF FLOWEES. 131 l was the hrst to speak—and words there were, Wild words, that painted fond affection's course;— 0! what indeed will erring tongues not dare, When conquering Feeling prompts! Like winds that force From wind-harps mystic sounds, the lips declare. Thoughts that are often follow’d by remorse ; For passion hath a potency that breaks Each puny bulwark callous Reason makes ! But our’s was Friendship’s purest worship—pure, Altho’ that worship bowed at earthly shrines, Alas! that hearts on altars insecure Should sacrifice their all of bliss! There twines O’er mankind’s sweetest hopes corruption sure t To blast their beauty e’en whilst most It shines!— ’Tis but to teach us there are worlds above, Where Hope fruition finds in endless Love! 13* THE POETRY OF FJ.OWBRS. WILD FLOWERS. BY JOHN KEATS. I stood tiptoe upon a little hill; The air was cooling, and so very still, That the sweet buds which with a modest pride Fell droopingly in slanting curve aside, Their scanty-leaved and finely tapering stems Had not yet lost their starry diadems, Caught from the early sobbings of the morn. The clouds were pure and white as flocks new shorn, And fresh from the clear brook; sweetly they slept On the blue fields of heaven, and then there crept A little noiseless noise among the leaves, Born of the very sigh that silence heaves ; t or not the faintest motion could b<- »een Of all the shades .hat slanted o’er nr green. There was wide wandering for the greediest eye, To peer about upon variety ; Far round the horizon’s crystal air to skim, And trace the dwindled edgings of its brim ; To picture out the quaint and curious bending Of a fresh woodland alley never-ending : Or by the bowery clefts and leafy shelves, Guess where the janty streams refresh them¬ selves. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. J33 I ga;:ed awhile, and felt as light and free As though the fanning wings of Mercury Had play’d upon my heels : I was light-hearted, And many pleasures to my vision started; So I straightway began to pluck a posy Of luxuries bright, milky, soft and rosy. A bush of May-flowers with the bees about them; Ah, sure no tasteful nook could be without them; And let a lush laburnum oversweep them, And let long grass grow round the roots, to keep them Moist, cool and green ; and shade the violets, That they may bind the moss in leafy nets. A filbert edge with wild-brier overtwined, And clumps of woodbine taking the soft wind Upon their summer thrones ; there too should be The frequent chequer of a youngling tree, That with a score of bright-green brethren shoots From the quaint mossiness of aged roots: Round which is heard a spring head of cleat waters, Prattling so wildly of its lovely daughters, The spreading blue-bells : it may haply mourn That such fair clusters should be rudely torn From their fresh beds, and scatter’d thoughtlessly By infant hands left on the path to die. Open afresh your round of starry folds, Ye ardent marigolds! Dry up the moisture from your golden lids. For great Apollo bids 134 THE POETRY OF FIO IVERS. That in these days your praises should be sung On many harps, which he has lately strung; And when again your dewiness he kisses, Tell him, I have you in my world of blisses: So haply ween I rove in some far vale, His mighty voice may come upon the gale. Here are sweet-peas, on tiptoe for a flight: With wings of gentle flush o’er delicate white, And taper fingers catching at all things, To bind them all about with tiny rings. What next ? a turf of evening primroses, O’er which the mind may hover till it dozes ; O’er which it well might take a pleasant sleeo. But that ’tis ever startled by the leap Of buds into ripe flowers. THE JASMINE. BY MOORE. ’Twas midnight—through the lattice wreath’d With woodbine, many a perfume breathed From plants that wake when others sleep; From timid jasmine buds that keep Their odour to themselves all day ; But when the sunlight dies away, Let the delicious secret out Ta every breeze that roams about. THE POETRY OF FLC WERS, 135 TO PRIMROSES FILLED WITH MORNING DEW'. \ BY HERRICK. IVhy dc ye weep, sweet babes ? Can tears Speak grief in you, Who were but born Just as the modest morn Teem’d her refreshing dew ! Alas! ye have not known that shower That mars a flower; Nor felt the unkind Breath of a blasting wind ; Nor are ye worn with years; Or warp’d as we, Who think it strange to see Such pretty flowers, like to orphans young, Speaking by tears before ye have a tongue. Speak, whimpering younglings, and make known The reason why Ye droop and weep. Is it for want of sleep, Or childish lullaby ? Or that ye have not seen as yet The violet? Or brought a kiss From that sweetheart to thkt THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 13 And fling it unrestrain’d and free, O’er hill, and dale, and desert sod, That man, where’er he walks, may see, At every step, the stamp of God ? --♦- FROM METASTASIO. The married are compared by the poet to the young Rose., which the lover places in the bosom of his mistress, first stripped of thorns. Thou virgin Rose ! whose opening leaves so fair, The dawn has nourish’d with her balmy dews While softest whispers of the morning air Call’d forth the blushes of thy vermeil hues; That cautious hand, which cropt thy youthful pride, Transplants thy honours, where from hurt secure, Stript of each thorn offensive to thy side, Thy nobler part alone shall bloom mature. Thus thou, a flower, exempt from change of skies, By storms and torrents unassail’d shall rise, And scorn the winter colds, and summer heats; A guard more faithful then thy growth shall tenc^ By whom thou mayst in tranquil union blend Eternal beauties with eteri al sweets. 138 THE FOETH'S JF FLOWERS. THE LILY. J . H . W1FFEK. Look on that flower—the daughter of the vale The Medicean statue of the shade! Her limbs of modest beauty, aspect pale, Are but by her ambrosial breath betray’d. There, half in elegant relief display’d, She standeth to our gaze, half-shrinking shuns; Folding her green scarf like a bashful maid Around, to screen her from her suitor suns, Not all her many sweets she lavisheth at once. Lock’d in the twilight of depending boughs, Where night and day commingle, she doth shoot, Where nightingales repeat their marriage vows; First by retiring, wins our curious foot, Then charms us by her loveliness to suit Our contemplation to her lovely lot; Her gloom, leaf, blossom, fragrance form dispute Which shall attract most belgards to the spot, And loveliest her array who fain would rest un sought. Her gloom, the aisle of heavenly solitude; Her flower, the vestal nun who there abideth; Her breath, that of celestials meekly woo’d From heaven; her leaf, the holy veil which hide th; Her form, the shrine where purity reaideth • THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 139 Spring’s darling, nature’s pride, the sylvan’s queen— To her at eve enamour’d Zephyr glideth, Trembling, she bids him waft aside her screen, And to his kisses wakes—the Flora of the scene. —«- THE NARCISSUS. BY GAY. Here young Narcissus o’er the fountain stood, And view’d his image in the crystal flood; The crystal flood reflects his lovely charms, And the pleased image strives to meet his arms. No nymph his inexperienced breast subdued, Echo in vain the flying boy pursued. Himself alone, the foolish youth admires, And with fond look the smiling shade desires; O’er the smooth lake with fruitless tears he grieves; His spreading fingers shoot in verdant leaves: Through his pale veins green sap now gently flows, And in a short-lived flower his beauty blows. Let vain Narcissus warn each female breast, That beauty’s but a transient good at best; Like flowers it withers with th’ advancing year. And age like winter robs the blooming fair. 140 THE POETKY OF FLOWER - . A SONG OF THE RGSiS, BY MRS. HEMAN9. Rose ! what dost thou here l 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 shade Of these mortal bowers, Not to disturb my soul, thou crown’d one of ail 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— 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 TWE POETRY OF I LOWERS. 141 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 farewells. All the soul forth flowing In that rich perfume, All the proud life glowing In that radiant bloom, Have they no place but here, beneath th’ 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 fcrm, melting to softer grace. 142 THE POETRY OF FLOAVERS. ' Will that clime enfold thee With immortal air ? Shall we not behold thee Bright and deathless there ? In spirit-lustre clothed, transcendency more fair I 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. -♦—- THE ROSE, FROM BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. Of all flowers. Methinks a rose is best. It is the very emblem of a maid; For when the west wind courts her gently, How modestly she blows, and paints the sun With her chaste blushes ! When the north comes near her, Rude and impatient, then, like chastity, She locks her beauties in her bud again, And leaves him to base briers. K TUB POETRY OF FLOWERS. 143 THE CAPTIVE AND THE FLOWERS. FROM THE GERMAN OF GOETHE. CAPTIVE. 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 alwavs 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. ROSE. My blossoms near thee I disclose, And hear thy wretched plight; Thou meanest me, no doubt, the roa# Thou noble, hapless knight. A lofty mind in thee is seen, And in thy bosom reigns the queen Of flowers as is her right. (44 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. CAPTIVE. Thy crimson bud I duly prize In outer robe of green ; For this thou’rt dear in maiden’s eye*. As gold and jewels sheen. Thy wreath adorns the fairest brow, And yet the flower—it is not thou, Whom my still wishes mean. LILY. The little rose has cause for pride, And upwards aye will soar; Vet am I held by many a brido The rose’s wreath before. And beats thy bosom faithfully, And art thou true, and pure as I, Thou’It prize the lily more. CAPTIVE. 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 4 Like many a pure and beauteous maid, One dearer thing I know. PINK. And dearer I, the pink, must oe, And me thou sure dost choose, Or else the gard’ner ne’er for me Such watchful care would use; THE POETRY OF FLOWERS 14 A crowd of leaves enriching bloom! And mine through life the sweet perfume, And all the thousand hues. CAPTIVE. The pink can no one justly slight, The gard’ner’s favourite flower ; He sets it now beneath the light. Now shields it from its power. Yet ’tis not pomp, who o’er the rest In splendour shines, can make me blest ; It is a still, small flower. VIOLET. 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. CAPTIVE. The violet I esteem indeed, So modest and so kind , 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 T ne’er shall find. 10 >4C THE 1 DETRY OF FLOWERS. The tiuest 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. -♦- FRAGMENT. BY SIR WALTER SCOTT, And well the lonely infant knew Recesses where the wall-flower grew And honeysuckle 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 survey’d, And still I thought that shatter’d tower The mightiest work of human power. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 147 THE VIOLET* 3Y G. J. CLARKE. When April’s warmth unlocks the clod, Soften’d by gentle showers, The violet pierces through the sod, And blossoms, first of flowers ; So may I give my heart to God I n childhood’s early hours. Some plants, in gardens only found, Are raised with pains and care: God scatters violets all around, They blossom every where; Thus may my love to all abound, And all my fragrance share. Some scentless flowers stand straight and high With pride and haughtiness: But violets perfume land and sky, Although they promise less. Let me, with all humility, Do more than I profess. • Written for a little girl to speak on May-day, la iiie character of tile Violet. [-1* THE POETRY OF FLOWERS, Sweet flower, be thou a type to me Of blameless joy and mirth, Of widely-scatter’d sympathy, Embracing all God’s earth— Of early-blooming piety, And unpretending worth. 1 SEND THE LILIES GIVEN Tf MS BY BYRON. I send the lilies given to me, Though, long before thy hand they touch, I know that they must wither J be ; But yet reject them not as such : For I have cherish’d them as dear, Because they yet may meet thine eye, And guide thy soui to mine even here, When thou behold’st them drooping nig^ And know’st them gather’d by the Rhine And offer’d from my heart to thine! The river nobly foams and flows, The charm of this enchanted ground,, A nd all its thousand turns disclose Some fresher beauty varying round; THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 149 The haughtiest breast its wish might bound, Through life to dwell delighted here; Nor could on earta a spot be found To nature and to me so dear. Could thy dear eyes, in following mine, Still sweeten more these banks of Rhine! —♦- FADED FLOWERS. BY MRS. SARAH HELEN WHITMAN. Remembrancers of happiness ! to me Ye bring sweet thoughts of the year’s purple prime, Wild, mingling melodies of bird and bee That pour on summer winds their silvery chime; And of rich incense, burdening all the air, From flowers that by the sunny garden wall Bloom’d at your side,—nursed into beauty there By dews and silent showers ; but these to all Ye bring. Oh ! sweeter far than these the spell Shrined in those fairy urns for me alone, For me a charm sleeps in each honey'd cell Whose power can call back hours of rapture flown, To the sad heart sweet memories restore, Tones, looks, and words of love that may re¬ turn no more. I5C rHE POETRY OF FLO WERS. TO DAFFODILS. BY GEORGE HERRIC* Fair daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon; As yet, the eariy-rising sun Has not attain’d its 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 yoa. We have as short 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 de** Ne’er to be fourd again. THE POETRY C F FI OWERS. WHITE ROSES. BY SARAH LOUISA P. SMITH. They were gather’d for a bridal! I knew it by their hue : Fair as the summer moonlight Upon the sleeping dew. From their fair and fairy sisters They were borne, without a sigh, For one remember’d evening To blossom and to die. They were gather’d for a bridal! And fasten’d in a wreath; But purer were the roses Than the heart that lay beneath; Yet the beaming eye was lovely, And the coral lip was fair, And the gazer look’d and ask’d not For the secret hidden there. They were gather’d for a bridal' Where a thousand torches glisten'd, When the holy words were spoken, And the false and faithless listen’d And answered to the vow Which another heart had taken, Yet he was present then— The once Joved, the forsaken. l32 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS They were gather’d for a bridal ! And now, now they are dying, And young Love at the altar Of broken faith is sighing. Their summer life was stainless, And not like her’s who wore them They are faded, and the farewell Of beauty lingers o’er them ! —«- THE FURZE. ’Mid scatter’d foliage, pale and sere, Thy kind floweret 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 traveler’s eye, Gay as the buds of summei 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 pal*. THE POETKY OF FLOWEKS. 53 NIGHT-BLOOMING FLOWERS. BY JULIET H. LEWIS. Fi.ik buds! I've wander’d day by day To this sequester’d spot, That I might catch your earliest smiles, And yet, you open not. The morning mists are scattered now, No cloud is in the sky, The sun, like a benignant king, Smiles from his throne on high; While birds, in gushing melody, Are offering homage up ; And sister flowers, beneath his gaze. Ope wide each fragile cup. Why shut you then your incense in, And hide your loveliness, As though no one might share your Beneath the sun’s caress ? Now wake you, ’tis the sunset hour, The day-king has gone down; Yet still, above the mountain’s top, Is seen his brilliant crown ; Awake you ! if his gleaming gems, His bands of glittering gold, His glorious, life-like radiance Departing, you’d behold. 154 THE POETRY OF FI 0WERS. The river’s touch’d with glowing light, And rolls, a crimson flood ; While heaven’s blush has lent its hues Unto the leafy wood. Still, are you folded to your dreams ? Bright must those visions be, If they surpass the gorgeousness Of evening’s pageantry! Good night! the stars are gemming heaven, And seem like angel’s eyes, Resuming now their silent watch Within the far-off - skies ; They nightly on their burning thrones Like guardian spirits, keep Familiar vigil o’er the world, Wrapt in its solemn sleep; And tenderly they gaze on us, Those children of the air, While every ray they send to us, Some message seems to bear, That stirs us to the inmost core ; And we do thrill beneath their beams, And start, and tremble, wildly, like Ambition in his dreams. Now, lo ! you burst your emerald bonds. And ope your languid eyes, And spread your loveliness before Those dwellers of the skies; *Ht save,— So some deep-grounded root or visible seed, When these heart-blossoms fade, may Btili remain, In a new season of thy being, decreed To rise to light and loveliness again. —♦— THE FRAGRANT AIR-FLOWER. BY T. K. HERVEY. Men say there is a gentle flower, That, born beneath an eastern sky, Without the gift of sun or shower, Gives out its precious sigh. That—with affection—sweetly dwell® Beneath the Indian’s stately doom. Or freely throws its fragrant spells Around his lowly home,— Fed only by that sacred air That, as a spirit, hovers there 1 158 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. And thou art like that fairy thing, Though gifted with a colder sky, With scent and bloom, too pure to fling Before the passer by; Who, with the star-flowers of thine eyes, Couldst brighten still the brightest lot, Or, with thy fond and fragrant sighs, Make rich the poor man’s cot!—‘ An English Ruth,—hi good or ill, To follow wheresoe’er we roam, And hang thy precious garlands, still, Amid the breath of home ! —My weary heart! my weary heart * It is a pleasant thing To wander from the crowd apart, When faint, and chill’d, and cold thou w* And fold thy restless wing, Beside the sweet and quiet streams Where grow life’s lily-bells,— And peace—that feeds on happy dreams. And utters music,—dwells— And love, beside the gushing springs, Like some young Naiad, sits and sinp*>' To leave awhile the barren height, Where thou, too long, hast striven As if the spirit’s upward flight Had been the path to heaven • THE POETRY OF FLO-WKRS. 159 And musing by love’s haunted rill, Earth’s “ river of the blest,” To see how sweetly heaven still, Is mirror’d on its breast, And feel thou, there, art nearer far To that bright land of sun and star! — « - THE ALPINE FLOWERS BY MRS. SIGOURNEY. Meek dwellers ’mid yon terror-stricken cliffs! With brows so pure, and incense-breathing lips, Whence are ye ?—Did some white-wing’d mes. senger On Mercy’s missions trust your timid germ To the cold cradle of eternal snows ? Or, breathing on the callous icicles, Bid them with tear-drops nurse ye ?— —Tree nor shrub Dare that drear atmosphere : no polar pine Uprears a veteran front; yet there ye stand, Leaning your cheeks against the thick-ribb’d ice And looking up with brilliant eyes to Him Who bids you bloom unblanch’d amid the waste Of desolation. Man, wha, panting, toils O'er slippery steeps, or, trembling treads the vergs 160 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. Of yawning gulfs, o’er which the headlong plunge Is to eternity, looks shuddering up, And marks ye in your placid loveliness— Fearless, yet frail—and, clasping his chill hands, Blesses your pencill’d beauty. ’Mid the pomp Of mountain summits rushing on the sky, And chaining the rapt soul in breathless awe, He bows to bind you drooping to his breast, Inhales your spirit from the frost-wing’d gale, And freer dreams of heaven. -•— THE MISTLETOE. BY BARRY CORNWALL When winter nights grow long, And winds without blow cold, We sit in a ring round the warm wood-fire, And listen to stories old ! And we try to look grave (as maids should be,) When the men bring in boughs of the laurel-tree 0. the Laurel, the evergreen tree ! The Poets have laurels—and why not we ? How pleasant, when night falls down, And hides the wintry sun, To see them come in to the blazing fire, And know that their work is done; THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. I® While man}' bring in, with a laugh or rhyme. Green branches of holly for Christmas time! 0 the Holly, the bright green Holly, It telle (like a tongue) that the times are jolly* Sometimes—in our grave-house, Observe, this happeneth not; But, at times, the evergreen laurel boughs And the holly are all forgot! And then ! what then ? why, the men laugh low, A nd hang up a branch of—the Mistletoe ! Oh. brave is the Laurel ! and brave is the Hetty J But the Mistletoe banisheth melancholy ! Ah, nobody knows, nor ever shall know What is dime — under the Mistletoa l 11 163 THE FOETKY OF FLOWERS. TO THE PRIMROSE. BY BIDLAKE, Pale visitant of balmy spring, Joy of the new-born year, That bidd’st young hope new-plume bin wing, Soon as thy buds appear: While o’er the incense-breathing sky The tepid hours first dare to fly, And vainly woo the chilling breeze That, bred in winter’s frozen lan,. Still struggling chains tne lingering sap Within the widow’d t*-ee8- Remote from towns, thy transient life Is spent in skies more pure ; The suburb smoke, the seat of strife, Thou canst but ill endure. Coy rustic ! thou art blooming found Where artless nature’s charms abound, Sweet neighbour of the chanter rill; Well pleased to sip the silvery tide, Or nodding o’er the fountain’s side, Self-gazing, look thy fill; THE POETRY OF FIOWERS, 163 Or, on the dingle’s shadowy steep, The gaudy furze beneath, Thy modest beauties sweetly peep, Thy chaster odours breathe. Front luxury we turn aside, From wealth and.ostentatious prhfa, AVith many an emblematic thorn, Thy humbler mien well pleased to meet; Like competence in blest retreat, Thy smiles the spring adorn. What though thou boast no splendid hue Of Flora’s prouder race ? To me more fair art thou to view, In all thy simple grace : Thine innocence and beauty meek, More like my Celestina’s cheek, Where all the modest virtues play ; Expression beaming from her eye. In cherub smiles of chastity, AVith mild and temper’d ray. Yet treasures lurk within thy lips To glad the spoiler bee, Who not with idle errand sips. Or wanton vagrancy. Ah! blest is he who temperance trie*, Simplicity above disguise, 1(54 THE POETRY OF FLOWER9. And shuns the falser gloss of art; ’Tis he extracts a bliss refined, Congenial to the virtuous mind, The tender feeling heart. Thy smiles young innocence invite, What time thy lids awake, In shadowy lane to taste delight, Or mazy tangled brake. The infant troop of rosy hue, And gay with health I seem to view, While pleasure lights their laughing eyes j With little hands a wreath combine, Their fugitive delights entwine, And boast their fragrant prize. Ah ! happy breasts ! unknown to pain I would not spoil your joys; Nor vainly teach you to complain Of life’s delusive toys. Be jocund still, still sport and smile, Nor dream of woe or future guile ; For soon shall ye awaken’d find The joys of life’s sad thorny way, But fading flowerets of a day Cut down by every wind- THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 1M THE VIOLET. BY BARRY CORNWALL. I love all things the seasons bring, All buds that start, all birds that sing, All loaves, from white to jet; All the sweet words that Summer senes, When she recalls her flowery friends, But chief—the Violet! I love, how much I love the rose, On whose soft lips the South-wind blow*, In pretty amorous threat; The lily paler than the moon, The odorous wondrous world of June, Yet more—the Violet! She comes—the f.rst, the fairest thing That Heaven upon the earth doth fling, Ere Winter’s star has set; She dwells behind her leafy screen. And gives, as angels give, unseen: So, love—the Violet! What modest thoughts the Violet teaches. What gracious boons the Violet preaches. Bright maiden, ne’er forget! But learn, and love, and so depart, And sing thou, with thy wiser heart, * Long live the Violet /” 166 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. FADED FLOWERS. BY MISS JEWSBURY. Fabed flowers, Sweet faded flowers, Beauty and death Have ruled your hours, Ye woke in bloom but a morn ago, And now are your blossoms in dust laid low. But yesterday With the breeze ye strove, In the play of life, In the pride of love; To and fro swung each radiant head, That now is drooping, and pale, and dead! Delicate flower, With the pearl-white bells, No more shall dew-drop Sleep in thy cells! No more, rich rose, on thy heaving breast, The honey-bee fold his wings to rest' Fair myrtle-tree, Thy blossoms lie low, But green above them Thy branches grow ; Like a buried love, or a vanish’d joy Link’d unto memories none destroy. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 1 SI Faded flowers, Sweet faded flowers— Fair frail records Of Eden’s bowers; In a world where sorrow and wror.g bear sway, Why should ye Unger ?—Away ! away ! What were the emblems Pride to stain, Might ye your glorious Crowns retain ? And what for the young heart, bow’d with grief, Were the rose ne’er seen with a wither’d leaf? Ye bloom to tell us What once hath been; What yet shall in heaven Again be seen; Ye die, that man in his strength may learn, How vain the hopes in his heart that burn. Many in form, And bright in hue ! I know your fate, But the earth to strew, And my soul flies on to immortal bowers Where the heart and the rose are not faded flowers, 168 THE FOETH OF FLOWERS. THE ROSES. BY BOWRIWG. I saw them once blowing, While morning was glowing; But now are their wither’d leaves strew’d o’er the ground, For tempests to play on, For cold worms to prey on, The shame of the garden that triumphs around. Their buds which then flourish’d, With dew-drops were nourish’d. Which turn’d into pearls as they fell frormon high ■ Their hues are all banish’d, Their fragrance all vanish’d, Ere evening a shadow has cast from the sky. I saw, too, whole races Of glories and graces Thus open and blossom, but quickly decay; And smiling and gladness, In sorrow and sadness, Ere life reach’d its twilight, fade dimly away, Joy’s light-hearted dances^ And me.ody’s glances, THE TOETKY OF FLOWERS. 165 Are rays of a moment—are dying when boin; And pleasure’s best dower Is naught but a flower, A vanishing dew-drop—a gem ol the morn. The bright eye is clouded, Its brilliancy shrouded, Our strength disappears, we are helpless and Iona' No reason avails us, And intellect fails us; Life’s spirit is wasted, and darkness comes on. ■— * - TO THE SNOW-DROP. BY BARRY CORNWALL. Pretty firstling of the year ! Herald of the host of flowers, Hast thou left my cavern drear, In the hope of summer hours ? Back unto my earthen bowers! Back to thy warm world below, Till the strength of suns and showers Quell the now relentless snow ! Art still here ?—Alive ? and blithe ? Though the stormy night hath fled, And the Frost hath pass’d his scythe O'er .hy small unshelter’d headt _Ij *70 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS .Ah! —some lie amid (he dead, (Many a giant stubborn tree,— Many a plant, its spirits shed,) That were better nursed than thee * What hath saved thee ? Thou wast noi ’Gainst the arrowy winter furr’d,— Arm’d in scale—but all forgot When the frozen winds were stirr’d. Nature, who doth clothe the bird, Should have hid thee in the earth, Till the cuckoo’s song was heard, And the Spring let loose her mirth. Nature—deep and mystic word, Mighty mother, still unknown ! Thou didst sure the Snow-drop gird With an armour all thine own ! Thou, who senf 'at it forth alone To the cold and sullen season, (Like a thought at random thrown,) Sent it thus for some grave reason! If ’twere but to pierce the mind With a single gentle thought, Who shall deem thee harsh or blind! Who that thou hast vainly wrought ( Hoard the gentle virtue caught From the Snow-drop—reader wise ! Good is good, wherever taught, On the ground or in the skies 1 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 171 TO THE JESSAMINE. BY MISS JANE TAYLOR. Sweet jessamine, long may thy elegant flower Breathe fragrance and solace for me : And long thy green sprigs overshadow the bower Devoted to friendship and thee. The eye that was dazzled where lilies and roses Their brilliant assemblage display’d, With grateful delight on thy verdure reposes, A tranquil and delicate shade. But ah! what dejection that foliage expresses, Which pensively droops on her breast! The dew of the evening has laden her tresses, And stands like a tear on her crest. I’ll watch by thy side through the gloom of the night Impatient till morning appears: No charm can awaken this heart to delight, My jessamine, while thou art in tears. But soon will the shadows of night be withdrawn. Which ever in mercy are given; And thou shalt be cheer’d by the light of the morn, Ard fann’d by the breezes of heaven. 172 1HE P3ETRY OF FLOWERS. And still may thy tranquil and delicate shade Yield fragiance and solace to me; For though all the flowers in my garden should fade, My heart will repose upon thee. -♦- ON A FADED VIOLET. BY SHELLEY. The odour from the flower is gone Which, like thy kisses, breathed on me; The colour from the flower is flown, Which glow’d of thee, and only thee! V shrivel’d, lifeless, vacant form, It lies on my abandon’d breast, Ind mocks the heart, which yet is warm, With cold and silent rest. 1 weep, —my tears revive it not! I sigh,—it breathes no more on me; ru mute and uncomplaining lot la such as mine should be THE POETRY CF FLOWERS. 1 7J DAWN, GENTLE 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! Fade, gentle flower! All thy white leaves close; Having shone thy beauty, Time ’tis for repose. Die, gentle flower, In the silent sun! So—all pangs are over, All thy tasks are done! Day hath no more glory, Though he soars so high; Thine is all man’s story, Live—and love—and die t 114 THE POETF 5 OF FLOWERS. THE LILY AND THE ROSE. BT COWPEE. The nymph must lose her female friend If more admired than she— But where will fierce contention end, If flowers can disagree ? Within the garden’s peaceful scene Appear’d two lovely foes, Aspiring to the rank of queen, The Lily and the Rose. The Rose soon redden’d into rage, And swelling with disdain, Appeal’d to many a poet’s page To prove her right to reign. The Lily’s height bespoke command, A fair imperial flower; She seem’d design’d for Flora’s hand. The sceptre of her power. This civil bickering and debate The goddess chanced to hear; And flew to save, ere yet too late, The pride of the parterre. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS, 17S “ Yours is,” she said, “ the noblest hue, And yours the statelier mien; And, till a third surpasses you, Let each be deem’d a queen.’ Thus soothed and reconciled, both seek The fairest British fair; The seat of empire is her cheek, They reign united there. —*— THE VIOLET. BY SCOTT. The violet in her greenwood bower, Where birchen boughs with hazels mirgle, May boast herself the fairest flower, In glen, or copse, or forest dingle. Though fair her gems of azure hue, Beneath the dew-drop’s weight reclining, I’ve seen an eye of lovelier blue, More sweet through watery lustre shining. The summer sun that dew shall dry, Ere yet the day be past its morrow; No longer in my false love’s eye Remain d the tear of parting sorrow. 76 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. THE DYING GIRL AND FLOWERS Bear them not from grassy dells, Where wild bees have honey-cells, Not from where sweet water-sounds Thrill the greenwood to its bounds; Not to waste their scented breath On the silent room of Death! Kindred to the breeze they are, And the glow-worm’s emerald star, And the bird, whose song is free, And the many-whispering tree: Oh! too deep a love, and fain, They would win to earth again. Spread them not before the eyes, Closing fast on summer skies ! Woo thou not the spirit back, From its lone and viewless track, With the bright things which have birth Wide o’er all the colour’d earth ! With the violet’s breath would rise Thoughts too sad for her who dies; From the lily’s pearl-cup shed, Dreams too sweet would haunt her bed; Dreams of youth—of spring-time eves— Music—beauty—all she leaves! L t I THE fOETRY CF FLOWERS. 171 Hush! ’tis thou that dreaming art, Calmer is her gentle heart. Yes! o’er fountain, vale, and grove, Leaf and flower, hath gush’d her love But that passion, deep and true, Knows not of a last adieu. Types of lovelier forms than these, In their fragile mould she sees ; Shadows of yet richer things, _ Born beside immortal springs, Into fuller glory wrought, Kindled by surpassing thought. Therefore in the lily’s leaf She can read no word of grief; O’er the woodbine she can dweh, Murmuring not—Farewell! farewell And her dim yet speaking eye, Greets the violet solemnly. Therefore, once, and yet again, Strew them o’er her bed of pain; From her chamber take the gloom, With a light and flush of bloom : So should one depart, who goes Where no death can touch the ros®. 12 a 178 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS, THE NIGHT-SHADE. BY BARRY CORNWALL. Tread aside from my starry bloom 1 I am the nurse who feed the tomb (The tomb, my child' 1 With dainties piled, Until it grows strong as a tempest wild. Trample not on a virgin flower! I am the maid of the midnight hour; I bear sweet sleep To those who weep, And lie on their eyelids dark and deep. Tread not thou on my snaky eyes! I am the worm that the weary prize, The Nile’s soft asp, That they strive to grasp, And one that a queen has loved to clasp \ Pity me ! I am she whom man Hath hated since ever the world began; I soothe his brain, In the night of pain, But at morning he wakcth—and all is vain , THE POETRY OF FL0WER3. 179 THE LAY OF THE ROSE. BY ELIZAEETH B. BARRETT. “ Discordance that can accord ; And accordance to discord.” The Romaunt of Lie Ron A rose once pass’d within A garden, April-green, In her loneness, 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, All the fairer for that oneness. “ For if I wait,” said she, “ Till times for roses be, For the musk rose, and the moss rose. Royal red and maid on blush rose, 180 THE PGcTRY OF FLOWERS. “ What glory then for me, In such a company ? Roses plenty, roses plenty, And ono 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. “ 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. “ Upon which lifted sign, What worship will be mine ! What addressing, what caressing, What thanks, and praise and blessing 1 “ A wind-like joy will rush Through every tree and bush, Bending softly in affection, And spontaneous benediction. THE FOETRY OF FLOWERS. 18' “ Insects, that only may Live in a sunbright ray, To my whiteness, to my whiteness Shall be drawn, as to a brightness. “ And every moth and bee Shall near me reverently, Wheeling round me, wheeling o’er me Coronals of motioned glory. “ I ween the very skies Will look down in surprise, When low on earth they see me, With my cloudy aspect dreamy. “ E’en nightingales shall flee Their woods for love of me, Singing sadly all the sun tide, 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 loneness, And the fairer for that oneness. 183 THE POETRY OP FLOWERS. 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 brsh was seen To boast a perfect green, Scarcely having, scarcely having One leaf broad enow for waving. The little flies 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 goreea, 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 POETkY OF FLOWERS. The skies look’d coldly down As on a royal crown; Then, drop by drop, at leisure. Began to rain for pleasure. 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. “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 sadder for that oneness. . 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 »er. 184 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS Dropp’d from her, fair and mute, Close to a poet’s foot, Who beheld them, smiling lowly, As at something sad yet holy: Said “ Verily and thus, So chanceth e’er with us. Poets, ringing sweetest snatches, While deaf did men keep the watcher “ 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 f “ What bell will yield a tone Saving in the air alone ? If no brazen clapper bringing, Who can bear the chimed ringing f s “ What angel but would seem To sensual eyes glent-dim ? And without assimilation, Vain is interpenetration! THE fOETRY OF FLOWERS, 183 “ 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. “ Whether that form respect The sense or intellect, Holy r3st 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 u>, All unable to expound us, 86 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. “ Though none us deign to blesa, 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 “ obolurn da mild /” “ Shame ! shame to poet’s soul Pining for such a dole, When heaven-called to inherit The high throne of his own spirit! “ 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! f TK2 POETRY 0/ FLOWERS. 19 “ In thanks for all the good By joets understood—• For he 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 ! “ For life, so lonely vain, For death, which breaks the chain,— For this sense of present sweetness, And his yearning to completeness f ’ 188 THE POETRY OF FICWERS. EMBLEMS OF FLOWERS BY BURNS. Adown winding Nith I did wander, To mark the sweet flowers as they spring 1 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 I. o’ my Phillis. For she is simplicity’s child. The rose-bud’s the blush o’ my cnarmer. Her sweet balmy lip when ’tis prest: How fair and how pure is the lily, But fairer and purer her breast. Y"on knot of gay flowers in the arboui. 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 grove When Phoebus peeps over the mountains. On music, and pleasure, and love. tee poetry of flowers. 189 But beauty how frail and how fleeting, The bloom of a fine summer’s day ! While worth in the mind o’ my Phillis W ill flourish without a decay. —♦ - TII E OGANG E-BOUGH. BY MRS. HEMANS. Oh ! bring me one sweet Orange-bough, To fan my cheek, to cool my brow; One bough, with pearly blossoms drest, And bind it, Mother! on my breast! Go seek ths grove along the shore, Whose odours I must breathe no more, The grove where every scented tree Thrills to the deep voice of the sea. Oh ! Love’s fond sighs, and fervent prayer And wild farewell, are lingering there, Each leaf’s light whisper hath a tone, My faint heart, even in death, would own. Then bear me thence one bough, to shed Life’s parting sweetness round my head. And bind it Mother! on my breast When I am laid in lonely rest. £ 190 THE POETRY OP FLOWERS. TO THE NARCISSUS BY BEN JONSON. Arise, and speak thy sorrows, Echo, rise; Here, by this fountain, where thy love did pine. Whose memory lives fresh to vulgar fame, Shrined in this yellow flower, that bears his name, ECHO. His name revives, and lifts me up from earth;— See, see, the mourning fount, whose springs weep yet Th’ untimely fate of that too beauteous boy,. That trophy of self-love, and spoil of nature, Who (now transform’d into this drooping flower! Hangs the repentant head back from the stream; As if it wish’d—would I had never look’d In such a flattering mirror! O, Narcissus! Thou that wast once (and yet art) my Narcissus, Had Echo but been private with thy thoughts, She would have dropt away herself in tears, Till she had all turn’d waste, that in her (As in a true glass) thou mightst have gazed, And seen thy beauties by more kind reflection. But self-love never yet could look on truth, But with blear’d beams ; slick flattery and she Are twin-born sisters, and do mix their eyes, As if you sever one, the other dies. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 191 Why did the gods give thee a heavenly form And earthly thoughts to make thee proud of it ! Why do I ask ? ’Tis now the known disease That beauty hath, to bear too deep a sense Of her own self-conceived excellence. Oh hadst thou known the worth of Heaven’s rioh gift, Thou wouldst have turn’d it to a truer use, And not (with starved and covetous ignorance) Pined in continual eyeing that bright gem, The glance whereof to others had been more Than to thy famish’d mind the wide world’s store, -*- THE HAREBELL. BY SCOTT. “ For me,”—she stoop’d, and looking rounu. Pluck’d a blue harebell from the ground,— “ For me, whose memory scarce conveys An image of more splendid days, This little flower, that loves the lea, May well my simple emblem be ; It drinks heaven’s dew, blithe as the rose That in the king’s own garden grows; And when I place it in my hair, Allan, a bard is bound to swear He ne’er saw coronet sc fair.” - ! *B THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. SWEET LAVENDER. BY MISS STRICKLAND. Sweet lavender! I love thy flower Of meek and modest blue, Which meets the morn and evening hour. The storm, the sunshine, and the shower* And changeth not its hue. In cottage-maid’s parterre thou’rt seen, In simple touching grace; And in the garden of the queen, ’Midst costly plants and blossoms sheen, Thou also hast a place. The rose, with bright and peerless bloons Attracted many eyes; But while her glories and perfume Expire before brief summer’s doom, Thy fragrance never dies. Thou art not like the fickle train Our adverse fates estrange; Who, in the day of grief and pain, Are found deceitful, light, and vain, For thou dost never change. T3E POETRY OP FLOWERS. 193 But thou art emblem of the friend, Who, whatsoe’er our lot, The balm of faithful love will lend And, true and constant to the end, May die, but alters not. THE HALF-BLOWN ROSE. BY DANIEL. Look, now, now we esteem the half-blown rose The image of thy blush and summer’s honour; Whilst yet her tender bud doth undisclose That full of beauty time bestows upon her. No sooner spreads her glories to the air, But straight her wide-blown pomp comes to decline; She then is scorn’d that late adorn’d the fair ; So fade the roses of those cheeks of thine. No April can revive thy wither’d flowers, Whose springing grace adorns thy glory now; Swift, speedy time, feather’d with flying hours. Dissolves the beauty of the fairest brow: Then do not thou such treasure waste in vain. But love now whilst thou mayst be loved again. 13 194 THE POETRY OR PLOWEffiS. T O THE DAISY. BY WORDSWORTH, lit youth from rock to rock I weni From hill to hill in discontent Of pleasure high and turbulent, Most pleased when most uneasy; But now my own delights I make, My thirst at every rill can slake, And nature’s love of thee partake, Her much-loved daisy! Thee winter in the garland wears That thinly dec^s his few gray hairs Spring parts the clouds with softest air# $ That she may sun thee ; Whole summer-fields are thine by right• And Autumn, melancholy wight Doth in thy crimson head delight When rains are on thee. Be violets in their secret mews The flowers the wanton zepbvrs choose Proud be the rose, with rains and dews Her head impearling; rilE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 199 Thou livest with less ambitious aim, Yet hast not gone without thy flame; Thou art indeed, by many a claim, The poet’s darling. If to a rock from rains we fly, Or, some bright day of April sky, Imprison’d by hot sunshine lie Near the green holly, And wearily at length should fare; He needs but look about, and there Thou art!—a friend at hand, to scare His melancholy. A hundred times, by rock or bower, Ere thus I have lain couch’djm hour, Have I derived from thy sweet power Some apprehension; Some steady love; some brief delight > Some memory that had taken flight; Some chime or fancy wrong or right; Or strong invention. If stately passions in me burn, And one chance look to thee should turn I drink out of an humble urn A lowlier pleasure ; The homely sympathy that heeds The common life, our nature breeds; A wisdom fitted to the needs Of hearts at Uisure. 96 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. Fresh smitten by thy morning ray, When thou art up, alert and gay, Then, cheerful flower ! my spirits plaf With kindred gladness: And when, at dusk, by dews opprest, Thou sink’st, the image of thy rest Hath often eased my pensive breast Of careful sadness. And all day long I number yet, All seasons through, another debt, Which I, wherever thou art met, To thee am owing; An instinct call it, a blind sense— A happy, genial influence, Coming one knows not how, nor whence, Nor whither going. Child of the year! that round dost run Thy pleasant course,—when day’s begun, As ready to salute the sun As lark or leveret, Thy long-lost praise* thou shalt regain ; N or be less dear to future men Than in old time thou not in vain Art nature’s favourite. • See, In Chaucer and the elder poets, the honours formerly paid to this flower. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. W* LOVE’S WREATH. BY MOORE. When Love was a child, and went idling round Among flowers the whole summer’s day, One morn in the valley a bower he foufid, So sweet, it allured him to stay. Q’erhead from the trees hung a garland fair, A fountain ran darkly beneath ; 'Twas Pleasure that hung the bright flowers ui there, Love knew it and jump’d at the wreath. But Love did not know—and at his weak years. What urchin was likely to know ?— That sorrow had made of her own salt tears, That fountain which murmur’d below. He caught at the wreath, but with too much haste. As boys when impatient will do ; it fell in those waters of briny taste, And the flowers were all wet through. Yet this is the wreath he wears night and da' ; And though it all sunny appears With Pleasure’s own lustre, each leaf, they say, Still tastss of the fountain o° tears. *>8 THE TOETRY OF FLOWER*. TO A CROCUS.* BY BERNARD BARTOW. Welcome, wild harbinger of spring ! To this small nook of earth ; Feeling and fancy fondly cling Round thoughts which owe their birtii To thee, and to the humble spot Where chance has fix’d thy lowly lot. To thee,—for thy rich golden bloom, Like heaven’s fair bow on high, Portends, amid surrounding gloom, That brighter hours draw nigh, When blossoms of more varied dyes Shall ope their tints to warmer skies. Yet not the lily, nor the rose, Though fairer far they be, Can more delightful thoughts disclose Than I derive from thee : The eye their beauty may prefer; The heart is thy interpreter! VIethinks in hy fair flower is seen, By those whose fancies roam, * Si.wtng up and blossoming beneath a wall -flowet. THE POETRY OF FLOWS IS. 19J An emblem of that leaf of green The faithful dove brought home, When o’er the world of waters dark Were driven the inmates of the ark. That leaf betoken’d freedom nigh To mournful captives there; Thy flower foretells a sunnier sky, And chides the dark despair By winter’s chilling influence flu»g O’er spirits sunk, and nerves unstrung, And sweetly has kind nature’s hand Assign’d thy dwelling-place Beneath a flower whose blooms expand, With fond congenial grace On many a desolated pile", Bright’ning decay with beauty’s smile. Thine is the flower of Hope, whose nue Is bright with coming joy ; The wall-flower’s that of faith, too true For ruin to destroy ; And where, O ! where should hope apsprin| But under faith’s protecting wing. WJ THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. ARRANGEMENTS OF A BOUQUET. BY NICHOLAS DRAYTON. Here damask roses, white and red, Out of my lap first take I, Which still shall run along the thread My chiefest flower this make I. Amongst these roses in a row, Next place I pinks in plenty, These double pansies then for show, And will not this be dainty ? The pretty pansy then I’ll tie Like stones some chain inchasing; And next to them, their near ally, The purple violet placing. The curious choice clove July flower, Whose kind hight the carnation, For sweetness of most sovereign power, Shall help my wreath to fashion , Whose sundry colours of one kind, First from one root derived, Them in their several suit? I’ll bind: My garland so contrived. \ THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 201 A course of cowslips then I’ll stick, And here and there (though sparely) The pleasant primrose down I’ll prick, Like pearls that will show rarely; Then with these marigolds I’ll make My garland somewhat swelling, These honeysuckles then I’ll take, Whose sweets shall help their smelling. The lily and the fleur-de-lis, For colour much contending, For that I them do only prize, They are but poor in scenting; The daffodil most dainty is, To match with these in meetness; The columbine compared to this, All much alike for sweetness. These in their natures only are Fit to emboss the border, Therefore I’ll take especial care To place them in their order: Sweet-williams, campions, sops-in-wine, One by another neatly: Thus have I made this wreath ot mute, And finished it featly. 202 THE FOETRY OF FLOWERS. ON PLANTING A TULIP-ROOT. BY MONTGOMERY. Here lies a bulb the child of earth, Buried alive beneath the clod, Ere long to spring, by second birth, A new and nobler work of God. ’Tis said that microscopic power Might through his swaddling folds descry The infant image of the flower, Too exquisite to meet the eye. This vernal suns and rain will swell, Till from its dark abode it peep, Like Venus rising from her shell, Amidst the spring-tide of the deep Two shapely leaves will first unfold ; Then, on a smooth, elastic stem, The verdant bud shall turn to gold. And open in a diadem. Not one of Flora’s brilliant race A form more jierfect can display ! Art could not feign more simple grace Nor Nature take a line awav J THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 203 ■f et, rich as morn, of many a hue, When flushing clouds through darkness strike The Tulip’s petals shine in dew All beautiful, but none alike. -—•- T 0 BLOSSOMS. BY HERRICK. Fair pledges of a fruitful tree, Why do ye fall so fast ? Your date is not so past But you may stay here yet awhile, To blush and gently smile, And go at last. What! were ye born to be An hour or half’s delight. And so to bid good-night ? Twas pity nature brought ye forth Merely to show your worth, And lose you quite. But ye are lovely leaves, where we May read how soon things have Their end, though ne’er so brave : And after they have shown their pride- Like you, awhile, they glide Into the grave. 204 THB POETRY OF FLOWERS. A COMPARISON. BY J. H. WIFFEN. —As yon flower, with hyacinthine bells, Playful as light, which shiver’d by my tread. Is turn’d to dust and darkness—to all else It is as though it was not; swiftly sped Spoil o’er its bruised buds which blossomed A blending of all sweetness—what now ? A few years hence, and over this bent head, Dashing all life and gladness from the brow, The scythe of Time shall pass, and Ruin’s silen Dlough. But the Spring, Fair as Aurora in her purple cloud, Descends and wakens in their slumbering, Life from the ashes, beauty from the shroud. And speaks of immortality aloud To mourning man ; and thus the flower I trod To its maternal dust shall issue proud Ofits new birth, and on a greener sod Bow to the dcd ying winds—a sign to mat frotr God, THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 205 THE EARLY PRIMROSE. Aske me why I send you here This firstling of the infant year; Aske me why I send to you This primrose all bepearl’d with dew; I straight will whisper in your ears, The sweets of love are washt with tearee, Aske me why this flow’r doth show So yellow, green and sickly too; Aske me why the stalk is weak, And bending, yet it doth not break; I must tell you, these discover What doubts and fears are in a Lover. THE HOLLY. BY SOUTHEY. O reader ! hast thou ever stood to see The holly tree ? The eye that contemplates it well perceive# Its glossy leaves Order d by an Intelligence so wise. As might confound the Atheist’s sophistries. 206 THE FOETH'S OF FLOWERS. Below a circling fence, its leaves are seen Wrinkled and keen; No grazing cattle through their prickly round Can reach to wound, But as they grow where nothing is to fear, Smooth and unarm’d the pointless leaves appear • —•- NARCISSUS. BY GRAY. Here young Narcissus o’er the fountain stood, And viewed his image in the crystal flood; The crystal flood reflects his lovely charms, And the pleased image strives to meet his arms. No nymph his inexperienced breast subdued, Echo in vain the flying boy pursued. Himself alone the foolish youth admires, And with fond look the smiling shade desires, O’er the smooth lake with fruitless tears ho grieves: His spreading fingers shoot in verdant leaves: Through his pale veins green sap now gently flows. And in a short-lived flower his beauty blows. Let vain Narcissus warn each female breast That beauty’s but a transient good at best; Like flowers, it withers with th’ advancing year, And age, liks winter, robs the blooming fair. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. ANACREON TO THE ROSE. W hile we invoke the wreathed spring, Resplendent Rose ! to thee we’ll sing, Resplendent Rose ! the flower of floww, Whose breath perfumes Olympus’ bow©**, Whose virgin blush, of chasten’d dye, Enchants so much our mortal eye, Oft has the poet’s magic tongue The Rose’s fair luxuriance sung ; And long the Muses, heavenly maids Have rear’d it in their tuneful shades. When, at the early glance of morn, It sleeps upon the glittering thorn, ’Tis sweet to dare the tangled fence, To cull the timid floweret thence, And wipe, with tender hand, away The tear that on its blushes lay! ’Tis sweet to hold the infant stems, Tet dropping with Aurora’s gems, And fresh inhale the spicy sighs That from the weeping buds arise. When revel reigns, when mirth is high And Bacchus beams in every eye. Our rosy fillets scent exhale, Vnd fill with balm the fainting gale ! Oh, there is nought in nature bright, Where Roses do not shed their light' 208 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. Where morning paints the orient skies, Her fingers burn with roseate dyes! And when, at length, with pale decline, Its florid beauties fade and pine, Sweet as in youth its balmy breath Diffuses odour e’en in death ! O, whence could such a plant have sprung I Attend—for thus the tale is sung:— When humid from the silvery stream, Effusing beauty’s warmest beam, Venus appeared in flushing hues. Mellowed by Ocean’s briny dews; When, in the starry courts above, The pregnant brain of mighty Jove Disclosed the nymph of azure glance! The nymph who shakes the martial lance! Then, then, in strange eventful hour, The earth produced an infant flower, Which sprung with blushing tinctures dress’d. And wanton’d o’er its parent breast. The gods beheld this brilliant birth, And hail’d the Rose, the boon of earth . With nectar drops, a ruby tide, The sweetly orient buds they dyed, And bade them bloom, the flowers divin* Of him who sheds the teeming vine ; And bade them on the spangled thorn Expand their bosoms to the morn THE POETRY OF 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 love's 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 SN 0 W-D R OP. BY MARY ROBINSON The snowdrop, Winter’s timid child, Awakes to life, bedew’d with tears, And fli-ngs around its fragrance mild; And, where no rival flowerets bloom, Amidst the bare and chilling gloom, A beauteous gem appears. 14 210 THE F0ETRV OF FLOWERS. AH weak and wan with head inclined, Its parent breast the drifted snow, It trembles, while the ruthless wind Bends its slim form ; the tempest lowers, Its emerald eye drops crystal showers On its cold bed below. Where’er I find thee, gentle flower, Thou still art sweet and dear to me ' For I have known the cheerless hour, Have seen the sunbeams cold and pale. Have felt the chilling wintry gale, And wept and shrunk, like thee ! —«- 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 wi :h you along. THE FOETRY OF FI JWERS. 211 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. -♦- THE SHEPHERD TO THE FLOWERS. BY SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 8wef.t violets, love’s paradise, tha. spread Your gracious odours, which you, couched, bear Within your paly faces, Upon the gentle wing of some calm-breathing wind, That plays amidst the plain! If, by the favour of propitious stars, you gain, Sach grace as in my lady’s bosom place to find, Be proud to touch those places: And when her warmth your moisture forth doth wear, Whereby her dainty parts are sweetly fed. HZ THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. You, honours of the flowry meads, I nray, You pretty daughters of the earth and sun, Wkh mild and seemly breathing straight display My bitter sighs, that have my heart undone 1 —o- HE ART’S-EASE. BY SHAKSPEARE. I SAW, Flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all arm’d ; a certain aim he took At a fair vestal throned in the west. And loosed his love-shaft smartlv from his bow, As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts. But I might see young Cupid’s fiery shaft Quench’d in the chaste beams of the wat’ry moon. And the imperial vot’ress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet marked I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love’s woona. And maidens call it Love in Idleness. The juice of it, on sleeping eyelids laid, Will make a man or woman madly dota Upon the next live creature that it sees. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 213 THE SCARLET GERANIUM. I will not sing the mossy rose, The jasmine sweet, or lily fair, The tints the rich carnation shows, The stock’s sweet scent that fills the air. Full many a bard has sung their praise In metres smooth, and polished line; A simple flower and humbler lays May best befit a pen like mine. There is a small but lovely flower. With crimson star and calyx brown, On pathway side, beneath the bower, By Nature’s hand profusely strown. Inquire you when this floweret springs ?— When Nature wakes to mirth and love, When all her fragrance summer flings, When latest autumn chills the grove. Like the sweet bird whose name it bears, ’Midst falling leaves and fading flowers. The passing traveller it cheers, In shorten d days and darksome hour*. 1 214 THE POETRY OF FLC WERS. And, should you ask me where it blows I answer, on the mountains bare, High on the tufted rock it grows, In lonely glens or meadows fair. It blooms amidst those flowery dales Where winding Aire pursues its course; It smiles upon the craggy fells That rise around its lofty source. There are its rosy petals shown, ’Midst curious forms and mosses rare, Imbedded in the dark gray stone, When not another flower is there. Oh ! emblem of that steadfast mind Which, through the varying scenes of life, By genuine piety refined, Holds on its way ’midst noise and strife. though dark the im pending tempest lower, The path of beauty it espies, Oalm ’midst the whirlwind and the shower, Thankful when brighter hours arise. Oh! could our darken’d minds discern In thy sweet form this lesson plain, Could we it practically learn, Herb Robert would no*, bloom it v ain. TEE FOETRY OF FLOWERS. 215 THE HELIOTROPE. There is a flower, whose modest eye Is turn’d wilh 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 f Let but an adverse cloud appear, And thou art faithless as the flower. ARMOUR OF THE ROSE. Young Love, rambling through the wood. Found me in my solitude, Bright with dew and freshly blown, And trembling to the Zephyr’s sighs; But as he stoop’d to gaze upon The living gem with raptured eyes, It chanced a bee was busy there, Searching for its fragrant fare • 16 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS, And, Cupid, stooping too, to sip, The angry insect stung his lip : And, gushing from the ambrosial -fell, One bright drop on my bosom fell. Weeping, to his mother he Told the tale of treachery, And she her vengeful boy to please, Strung his bow with captive bees, But placed upon my slender stem The poisoned sting she plucked from them i And none since that eventful morn Have found the flower without a thorn. —•- 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. THE POETRY OF FiOWERS. 211 FIELD LEAVES. Br ELIZABETH OAK SMITH. The tender violets bent in smiles To the elves that sported nigh, Tossing the drops of fragrant dew To scent the evening sky. They kiss’d the rose in love and mirth, And its petals fairer grew; A snower of pearly dust they brought And over the lily threw. I saw one dainty creature crown The tulip’s painted cup, And bless with one soft kiss the urn. Then fold its petals up. A finger rock’d the young Dird’s nest, As high on a branch it hung, While the gleaming night dew rattled down Where the old dry leaf was filing il8 THE POETRY tF FLOWERS. ON THE INDIAN-JASMINE FLOWER. BY RYAN. How Iovelily the jasmine flower Blooms far from man’s observing eyes; And iiaving lived its little hoar, There withers,—there sequester’d dies! Though faded, yet ’tis not forgot; A rich perfume, time cannot sever, Lingers in that unfriended spot, And decks the jasmine’s grave for ever. Thus, thus should man, who seeks to soar On learning’s wings to fame’s bright sky, Far from his fellows seek that lore, Unheeded live, sequester’d die. Thus, like the jasmine, when he’s fled, Fame’s rich perfume will ever keep, Ling’ring around the faded dead, As saints that watch some infant’s sleep. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 219 THE EVENING PRIMROSE. BY BERNARD BARTON. Fair flower, that shunn’st the glare cf day. Yet lovest to open, meekly bold. To evening hue3 of sober gray, Thy cup of paly gold ; Be thine the offering, owing long, To thee, and to this pensive hour. Of the brief tributary song, Though transient as thy flower. I love to watch at silent eve Thy scatter’d blossoms’ lonely light; And have my inmost heart receive The influence of that sight. I love, at such an hour, to mark, Their beauty greet the light breeze chill, And shine, ’mid shadows gathering dark, The garden’s glory still. For such, ’tis sweet to think the while, When cares and griefs the breast invade In friendship’s animating smile, In sorrow’s dark’ning shade. W) IHfc FOBTRY OF FLOWKM. Thus it burstB forth like thy pale cup, Glist’ning amid its dewy tears, And bears the sinking spirit up Amid its chilling fears; But still more animating far, If meek religion’s eye may trace, Even in thy glimm’ring earth-born stai The holier hope of grace! The hope that, as thy beauteous bloom Expands to glad the close of day, 80 through the shadows of the tomb May break forth mercy’s ray. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. t»i 7 0 AN EARLY PRIMROSE BY H. K. WHITE. Mild offspring of a dark and sullen sire. Whose modest form, so delicately fine, Was nursed in whirling storms, And cradled in the wind. Thee, when young Spring first Question’d Winter’s sway, And dared the sturdy blusterer to the fight— Thee on this bank he threw. To mark his victory. In this row vale, the promise of the year, Serene thou openest to the nipping gale, Unnoticed and alone, Thy tender elegance. So virtue blooms, brought forth amid the stonna Of chill adversity, in some lone walk Of fife she rears her head, Obscure and unobserved ; While every bleaching breeze that on her blows, Chastens her spotless purity of breast, And hardens her to bear Serene the ills of life. 822 THE TOETRY OR FLOWERS. THE ROSE BUD, BY KEBLE. W hen 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 soil’d by ruder breath? Whoever 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 wan and fair,— The gazing eye no change can trace, But look away a little space, Then turn, and lo ! ’tis there. But there’s a sweeter flower than e’ef Blush’d on the rosy spray— A brighter star, a richer bloom, Than e’er did western heaven illume At close of summer day. THE P0ETRV OF FLOWERS. 223 ’Tis love, the last best gift of heaven; Love gentle, holy, pure : But tenderer than a dove r 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. Hod only, and good angels, look Behind the blissful screen— As when, triumphant o’er his woes, The Son of God, by moonlight rose, By ali but heaven unseen: A3 when the Holy Maid beheld Her risen Son and Lord: Thought has not colours half so fair That she to paint that hour may dare In silence best adored. *24 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. The gracious dove, that brought 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 call’d his conscious brethren near, Would weep with them alone. 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 POETRY DF FLOWERS. 225 THE GARLAND. BY PRIOR. The pride of every grove I chose, The violet sweet, the lily fair, The dappled pink and blushing rose, To deck my charming Chloe’s hair At morn the nymph vouchsafed to place Upon her brow the various wreath ; The flowers less blooming than her face, The scent less fragrant than her breath The flowers she wore along the day: And every nymph and shepherd said, That in her hair they look’d more gay Than glowing in their native bed. Undress’d at evening, when she found Their odours lost, their colours past; She changed her look, and on the ground Her garland and her eye she cast. 9 That eye dropp’d sense distinct and clear, As any Muse’s tongue could speak, When from its lid a pearly tear Ran trickling down her beauteous cheek. 15 226 THE FOETRV OH FLOWERS. Dissembling what I knevs too well, My love, my life, said I, explain This change of humour: pr’ythee tells That falling tear—what does it mean f She sigh’d: she smiled: and to the flower* Pointing, the lovely moralist said— See, friend, in some few fleeting hours, See yonder, what a change is made. « Ah me ! the blooming pride of May, And that of beauty, are but one: At morn both flourish bright and gay ; Both fade at evening, pale, and gone. At dawn poor Stella danced and sung, The amorous youth around her bow'd i At night her fatal knell was rung ; I saw, and kiss’d her in her shroud. Such as she is, who died to-day, Such I, alas ! may be to-morrow; Go, Damon, bid the Muse display The justice of thy Ghloe’s sorrow. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 227 THE FIELD-FLOWER. BY MONTGOMERY. There is a flower, a little flower, With silver crest and golden eye, That welcomes every changing hour, And weathers every sky. The prouder beauties of the field In gay but quick succession shine, Race after race their honours yield, They flourish and decline. But this small flower, to nature dea.. While moon and stars their courses run. Wreathes the whole circle of the year, Companion of the sun. It smiles upon the lap of May, To sultry August spreads its charms, Lights pale October on his way, And twines December’s arms. The purple heath, and golden broom, On moory mountains catch the gale ' O’er lawns the lily sheds perfume, The violet in the vale ; 138 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. But this bold floweret climbs the hill Hides in the forest, haunts the glen, Stays on the margin of the rill, Peeps round the fox’s den. Within the garden’s cultured round It shares the sweet carnation’s bed; And blooms in consecrated ground In honour of the dead. The lambkin crops its crimson gem, The wild-bee murmurs on its breast The blue-fly bends its pensile stem, Light o’er the skylark’s nest. ’Tis Flora’s page :—in every place, In every season, fresh and fair, It opens with perennial grace, And blossoms every where. On waste and woodland, rock and plair. Its humble buds unheeded rise; The rose has but a summer reign, The daisy never dies. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS 229 TO THE SNOW-DROP. BY KEBLE. Thou first-born of the years’ delight, Pride of the dewy glade, In vernal green and virgin white, Thy vestal robes, array’d: 'Tis not because thy drooping form Sinks grateful on its nest, When chilly shades from gathering storm Affright thy tender breast; Nor from yon river islet wild Beneath the willow spray, Where, like the ringlets of a child, Thou wear’st thy circle gay ; ’Tis not for these I love thee dear,— Thy shy averted smiles To fancy bode a joyous year One of life’s fairy isles. They twinkle to the wintry moon, And cheer the ungenial day, And tell us all will glisten soon As green and bright as they- £30 THE POETRY OP FLOWERS. Is there a heart tha* loves the spring, Their witness can refuse ? Yet mortals doubt, when angels bring From heaven their Easter news: When holy maids and matrons speak Of Christ’s forsaken bed, And voices, that forbid to seek The living ’mid the dead ; And when they say, “ Turn, wandering hear “ Thy Lord is risen indeed, Let pleasure go, put care apart, And to his presence speed We smile in scorn • and yet we know They early sought the tomb, Their hearts that now so freshly glow, Lost in desponding gloom. They who have sought, nor hope to find, Wear not so bright a glance : They who have wen their earthly mind. Less reverently advance. But where, in gentle spirits, fear And joy so duly meet. These sure have seen the angels near, And kiss’d the Savour's feet, THE POETRY OF FLCWERS. *?l P»c* let the pastor’s thankful eye T ieir faltering tale disdain, As on their lowly couch they lie, Prisoners of want and pain. O guide us, when our faithless hearts From thee would start aloof. Where patience her sweet skill imparts Beneath some cottage roof: Revive our dying fires to burn High as her anthems soar, And of our scholars let us learn Our own forgotten lore. COWSLIPS. BY MARY HOWITT. Nay, tell me not of Austral flowers, Or purple bells from Persia’s bowers. The cowslip of this land of ours, Is dearer far to me ! This flower in other years I knew! I know the field wherein it grew, With violets white and violets blue, Beneath the garden tree . r 232 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. I never see these flowers but they Send back my memory, far away, To years long past, and many a day Else perish’d long ago ! They bring my childhood’s years again Our garden-fence, I see it plain, With ficaries like a golden rain Shower’d on the earth below. A happy child, I leap, I run, And memories come back, one by one. Like swallows with the summer sun, To their old haunts of joy ! A happy child, once more I stand, With my kind sister, hand in hand, And hear those tones, so sweet, so bland, That never brought annoy ! I hear again my mother’s wheel, Her hand upon my head I feel ; Her kiss,which every grief could hea., Is on my cheek even now ; I see the dial overhead ; I see the porch o’er which was led, The pyracantha green and red, And jessamine’s slender bough. I see the garden-thicket’s shade, Where all the summer long we play’d. And gardens set, and houses made, Our early work and late; THE POETRY OF FLOsVERS. 23* Our little gardens, side by side, Each border’d round with London prid* Some six feet long, and three feet wide, To us a large estate ! The apple and the damson trees, The cottage shelter for our bees ; I see them—and beyond all these, A something dearer still; I see an eye serenely blue, A cheek of girlhood’s freshest hue, A buoyant heart, a spirit true, Alike in wood and ill. Sweet sister, thou wert all to me. And I sufficient friend for thee : Where was a happier twain than w® Who had no mate beside ? Like wayside flowers in merry May, Our pleasures round about us lay ; A joyful morning had our day, Whale’ 3* jui ere betid®! 234 THE POETRY OF FLOWER8. HEART’S-EASE. BY MRS. SHERIDAN. In gardens oft a beauteous flower there grows, By vulgar eyes unnoticed and unseen; In sweet serenity it humbly blows, And rears its purple head to deck the green. This flower, as nature’s poet sweetly sings, Was once milk-white, and heart’s ease was it* name, Till wanton Cupid poised its roseate wings, A vestal’s sacred bosom to inflame. With treacherous aim the god his arrow drew, Which she with icy coldness did repel Rebounding thence with featoery speed it flew’, Till on this lonely flower, at last, it fell. Heart’s-ease no more the wandering shephert found; No more the nymphs its snowy form possess; Its white now changed to purple by love s wound, Heart’s-ease no more,—’tis love-in-idleness. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 2U TO THE SWEET-BRIER. BY J. G. C. BRAINARD. Our sweet autumnal western-scented wind Robs of its odours none so sweet a flower, In all the blooming waste it left behind, As that sweet-brier yields it; and the shower Wets not a rose that buds in beauty’§ bower One half so lovely; yet it grows along The poor girl’s pathway; by the poor man’s door. Such are the simple folks it dwells among; And humble as the bud, so humble be the song. I love it, for it takes its untouch’d stand Not in the vase that sculptors decorate; Its sweetness all is of my native land; And e’en its fragrant leaf has not its mate Among the perfumes which the rich and great Bring from the odours of the spicy East. You love your flowers and plants and will you hate The little four-leaved rose that I love best, That freshest will awake, and sweetest go to rest I 236 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. MOTHER’S DIRGE OVER HER CHILI) BY D. M. MOIR. Bring me flowers all young and sweets That I may strew the winding-sheet, Where calm thou sleepest, baby fair, With roseless cheek and auburn hair. • Bring me the rosemary, whose breath Perfumed the wild and desert heath; The lily of the vale, which too, In silence and in beauty grew. Bring cypress from some sunless spot, Bring me the blue forget-me-not; That I may strew them o’er thy bier, With long-drawn sigh and gushing tear Oh, what upon this earth doth prove So steadfast as a mother’s love! Oh, what on earth can bring relief Or solace to a mother’s grief! No more my baby shalt thou lie. With drowsy smiles and half-shut eye* Pillow’d upon my fostering breast, Serenely sinking into rest! THE POFTRY OF FLOW2RS. 33 * Thy grave must be thy cradle now; The wild flowers o’er thy breast shall glow, While still my heart, all full of thee, In widow’d solitude shall be. No taint of earth, no thought of sin, E’er dwelt thy stainless breast within, And God hath laid thee down to sleep, Like a pure pearl below the deep. Yea! from mine arms thy soul hath flown Above, and found the heavenly throne, To join that blest angelic ring, That aye around the altar sing. I thought, when years had roll’d away, That thou wouldst be my age’s stay; And often have I dream’d to see The boy—the youth—the man in thee 1 But thou hast past! for ever gone, To leave me childless and alone, Like Rachel frowning tear on tear, And looking not for comfort here ! Farewell, my child, the dews shall fall, At noon and evening, o’er thy pall; And daisies, when the vernal year Revives, upon thy turf appear- 238 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. The earliest snow-drop there shall spring, And lark delight to fold his wing ; And roses pale, and lilies fair, With perfume load the summer air! Adieu, my babe ! if life were long. This would be even a heavier song ; But years, like phantoms, quickly pass. They look to us from memory’s glass. Soon on death s couch shall I recline; Soon shall my head be laid with thine ; And sunder’d spirits meet above, To live for evermore in love. —»- THE ROSE. TRANSLATED I ROM CAMOEN8 Jrsr like love is yonder rose:— Heavenly fragrance round it throws, Yet tears its dewy leaves disclose, And in the midst of briers it blows ; J ust like Love, Cull’d to bloom upon the breast, Since rough thorns the stem invest, They must be gather'd with the rest, And with it to the heart be prest; Just like Lovo. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 239 And when the rude hands the twin buds Bever They die, and they shall blossom never; Yet the thorns be sharp as over; Just like Love -*- “GO TO THE FOREST SHADE.” BY MRS. HEMANS. Go to the forest shade- Seek thou the well known glade. Where, heavy with sweet dew, the violets lie, Gleaming through moss-tufts deep, Like dark eyes fill'd with sleep, And bathed in hues of summer’s midnight sky. Bring me their buds, to shed Around my dying bed A breath of May, and of the wood’s repose; For I in sooth depart With a reluctant heart, That fain would linger where the bright sun glows. Fain would I stay with thee— Alas ! this may not be , V et bring me still the gifts of happier houro! Go where the fountain’s breast Catches, in glassy rest, The dim green light that pours through laurel lowers. S40 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. I know how softly bright, Stoop’d in that tender light, The water-lilies tremble there e’en now , Go to the pure stream’s edge, And from its whispering sedge Bring me those flowers to cool my fever’d brow! Then, as in hope’s young days. Track thou the antique maze Of the rich garden to its grassy mound; There is a lone white rose, Shedding, in sudden snows, Its faint leaves o’er the emerald turf around. Well knowest thou that fair tree— A murmur of the bee Dwells ever in the honey’d lime above ; Bring me one pearly flower Of all its clustering shower— For on that spot we first reveal’d our love. Gather one woodbine bough, Then, from the lattice low Of the bowered cottage which I bade thee mark, When by the hamlet last, Through dim wood-lanes we pass’d, While dews were glancing to the glow- worm’s spark. THE POETR y OF FLOWERS- 241 Haste! to my pillow bear Those fragrant things and fair, Thy hand no more may bind them up at eve— Yet shall their odour soft One bright dream round me waft Of life, youth, summer—all that I must leave'. And, oh ! if thou wouldst ask Wherefore thy steps I task, The grove, the stream, the hamlet vale to trace« ’Tis that some thought of me, When I am gone, may be The spirit bound to each familiar place. 1 bid mine image dwell (Oh! break not thou the spell!) In the deep wood and by the fountain side J Thou must not, my beloved! Rove where we two have roved, Forgetting her that in her spring-time died' 13 248 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS TO A JASMINE-TREE BROWING IN THE COURT 07 HAWORTH CASTJ.B. BY LORD MORPETH. My slight and slender jasmine-tree, That bloomest on my Border tower, Thou art more dearly loved by me, Than all the wealth of fairy bower. I ask not, while I near thee dwell, Arabia’s spice or Syria’s rose; Thy bright festoons more freshly smell, Thy virgin white more freshly glows. My mild and winsome jasmine-tree, That climbest up the dark gray-walk Thy tiny flowerets seem in glee, Like silver spray-drops down to fall: Say, did they from their leaves thus peep, When mail’d moss-troopers rode the hill When helmed wardens paced the keep, And bugles blew for Belted Will? My free and feathery jasmine-tree, Within the fragrance of thy breath, Yon dungeon grated to its key, And the chain’d captive pined for death. On Border fray, on feudal crime, I dream not while I gaze on thee; The chieftains of that stern old time Coaid ne’er have loved a jasmine-tree. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 243 APRIL FLOWERS BY BISHOP MANT. Nor, April, fail with scent and hue, To giace the lowlier blossoms new. Not only that, where weak and scant Peep’d forth the early primrose plant, Now shine profuse unnumber’d eyes. Like stars that stud the wintry skies; But that its sister cowslip’s nigh, With no unfriendly rivalry Of form and tint, and fragrant smells, O’er the green fields their yellow bell® Unfold, bedropt with tawny red, And meekly bend the drooping head N ot only that the fringed edge Of heath, or bank, or pathway hedge, Glows with the furze’s golden bloom; But mingling now, the verdant broom With flowers of rival lustre deck’d. Uplifts its shapelier form erect. And there upon the sod below, Ground-ivy’s purple blossoms show, Like helmet of crusader knight, Its anthers’ crosslike forms of wl ite * And lesser periwinkle’s bloom, Like carpet of Damascus’ loom, M4 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. Pranks with bright blue the tissue wore Of verdant foliage ; and above, With milk-white flowers, whence soon shall Rich fruitage, to the taste and smell Pleasant alike, the strawberry weaves Its coronets of three-fold leaves, ■In mazes through the sloping wood. Nor wants there in her dreamy mood, What fancy’s sportiveness may think A cup, whence midnight elves might drink Delicious drops of nectar’d dew, While they their fairy sports pursue, And roundelays by fount or rill— The streak’d and chequer’d daffodil. Nor wants there many a flower beside. On holt, and hill, and meadow pied ; With pale green gloom the upright box, And woodland crowfoot’s golden locks ; And yellow cinquefoil’s hairy trail; And saxifrage with petal pale; And purple bilberry’s globelike head; And cranberry’s bells-of rosy red; And creeping groundsel blue and bright; And cranesbill’s streaks of red and white, On purple with soft leaves of down, And golden tulip’s turban’d crown, 3weet scented on its bending stem ; And bright-eyed star of Bethleuem ; With those, the firstlings of their kind, Which through the bosky thickets wind * THE FOETRY OF FLOWERS, 245 Their tendrils, vetch, or pea, or tare, At random; and with many a pair Of leaflets green the brake embower, And many a pendant-painted flower. -•- FLOWERS. BY ELIZABETH OAK SMITH. Each leaflet is a tiny scroll Inscribed with holy truth, A lesson that around the heart Should keep the dew of youth; Bright missals from angelic throngs In every by-way left How were the earth of glory shorn Were it of flowers bereft! They tremble on the Alpine heights, The fissured rock they press, The desert wild with heat and sand, Shares too their blessedness , And wheresoe’er the weary heart Turns in its dim despair, The meek-eyed blossom upward looks. Inviting it to prayer! 246 THE FOETKY OF FIOWERS. THE ORCHIS. BY SNOW. See, Delia, see this image bright, Why starts my fair one at the sight ? It mounts not on offensive wing, Nor threats thy breast with angry sting ; Admire, as close the insect lies, Its thin-wrought plume and honey’d thigh* £ Whilst on this floweret’s velvet breast, It seems as though ’twere lull’d to rest. Nor might its fairy wings unfold, Enchain’d in aromatic gold. Think not to set the captive free, ’Tie but the picture of a bee. Yet wonder not that nature’s power, Should paint an insect in a flower, And stoop to means that bear in part Resemblance to imperfect art. Nature, who could that form inspire With strength and swiftness, life and fire, And bid it search each spicv vale, Where flowers their fragrant souls exhale; And labouring for the parent hive. With murmurs make the wild alive. For when in Parian stone we trace Some best remember’d form or face; THE POETI.Y OF FLOWERS. #41 Or see on radiant canvass rise An imitative paradise; And feel the warm affections glow, Pleased at the pencil’s mimic show ; ’Tis but obedience to the plan From nature’s birth opposed to man, Who, lest her choicest sweets in vain Should blossom fcr our thankless train; Lest beauty pass unheeded by, Like cloud upon the summer sky ; Lest memory of the brave and just, Should sleep with them confined to dust J With leading hand the expedient prov®e s And pair.ts for us the form she loves. 248 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. THE DAISY IN INDIA BY JAMES MONTGOMERY. I hrice welcome, litile English flower ! Thy mother country’s white and red, In rose or lily, till this hour Never to me such beauty spread: Transplanted from thy island bed, A treasure in a grain of earth. Strange as a spirit from the dead Thy embryo sprang to birth. Thrice welcome, little English flower. Whose tribes beneath our native skies Shut close their leaves while vapours lower But when the sun’s gay beams arise, With unabash’d but modest eyes, Follow his motion to the west, Nor cease to gaze till daylight dies, Then fold themselves to rest. Thrice welcome, little English flower. To this resplendent hemisphere, Where Flora’s giant offspring tower In gorgeous liveries all the year; Thou, only thou, art little here, Like worth unfrienAsd and unknown. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 249 Yet to my British heart more dear Than all the torrid zone. Thrice welcome, little English flower ! Of early scenes beloved by me, While happy in my father’s bower, Thou shalt the blithe memorial be; The fairy sports of infancy, Youth’s golden age, and manhood’s prime, Home, country, kindred, friends,—with thee Are mine in this far clime. Thrice welcome, little English flower I’ll rear thee with a trembling hand; O for the April sun and shower, The sweet May-dews of that fair land, Where daisies, thick as star-light, stand In every walk !—that here might shoot, Thy scions, and thy buds expand, A hundred from one root! Thrice welcome, little English flower! To me the pledge of hope unseen : When sorrow would my soul o’erpower For joys that were, or might have been, I’ll call to mind, how—fresh and green— 1 saw thee waking from the dust; Then turn to heaven, with brow serene, And place in God my trust. *50 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. the primrose of the rock. BY WORDSWORTH. A rock there is whose lonely front The passing traveller slights ; Yet there the glow-worms hang their lamp* Like stars, at various heights; And one coy primrose to that rock The vernal breeze invites. What hideous warfare hath been waged What kingdoms overthrown, Since first I spied that primrose tuft, And mark’d it for pay own ! A lasting link in nature’s chain From highest heaven let down. The flowers, still faithful to the sterna, Their fellowship renew; The stems are faithful to the root, That worketh out of view; And to the rock the root adheres, In every fibre true. Close clings to earth the living rock. Though threatening still to fall; The earth is constant to her sphere. And God upholds them all: THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 251 So blooms this lonely plant, nor dreads Her annual funeral. Here closed the meditative strain; But air breathed soft that day, The hoary mountain heights were cheer’d, The sunny vale look’d gay; And to the primrose of the rock I gave this after lay. I sang—Let myriads of bright flowers, Like thee, in field and grove, Revive unenvied;—mightier far, Than tremblings that reprove Our vernal tendencies to hope, Is God’s redeeming love ; That love which changed—for wan disease, For sorrow that had bent, O’er hopeless dust, for wither’d age— Their moral element, And turn’d the thistles of a curse To types beneficent. Sin-blighted though we are, we too, The reasoning sons of men, From eur oblivious winter call’d, Shall rise and breathe again; And in eternal summer lose Our threescore years and ten. 252 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. To humbleness of heart descends This prescience from on high, The faith that elevates the just, Before and when they die ; And makes each soul a separate heaven, A court for Deity. -©— THE ROSE. BY SPENSER. Ah ! see the virgin rose, how sweetly sho Doth first peep forth with bashful modesty, That fairer seems the less ye see her way ! Lo! see soon after, how more bold and free Her bared bosom she doth broad display ; Lo ! see soon after, how she fade3 away and falls, INFANT SLUMBER. A holy smile was on her lip, Whenever sleep was there, She slept, as sleeps the blossom, ausli d Amd the silent air —E. Oak Smith. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 253 THE VIOLET. BY MISS L. E. liANDOW. Why oetter than the lady rose Love I this little flower ? Because its fragrant leaves are those I loved in childhood’s hour. Though many a flower may win my praiM, The violet has my love ; I did not pass my childish days In garden or in grove. My garden was the window-seat, Upon whose edge was set A little vase—the fair, the sweet— It was the violet. It was my pleasure and my pride How I did watch its growth . For health and bloom what plans I tried And often injured both! I placed it in the summer shower, I placed it in the sun ; And ever at the evening hour, My work seem’d half undono. 854 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. The broad leaves spread, the small buds grew. How slow they seem’d to be! At last there came a tinge of blue, ’Twas worth the world to me ! At length the perfume fill’d the room, Shed from their purple wreath; No flower has now so rich a bloom, Has now so sweet a breath. I gather’d two or three—they seem’d Such rich gifts to bestow ! So precious in my sight, I deem’d That all must think them so. Ah ! who is there but would be fain To be a child once more; If future years could bring again All that they brought before ? My heart’s world has been long o’erthrown; It is no more of flowers; Their bloom is pass’d, their breath is flown; Yet I recall those hours. Let nature spread her loveliest, By spring or summer nurst: Yet still I love the violet beat. Because I lm ed it first. 1 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 235 FIELD FLOWERS. BY CAMPBELI 5Te field flowers! the gardens eclipse you ,' tis true, STet, wildings of nature, I dote upon you, For ye waft me to summers of old, When the earth teem’d around me with fairy de¬ light, And when daisies and buttercups gladden’d my sight, Like treasures of silver and gold. I love you for lulling me back into dreams Of the blue Highland mountains and echoing streams, And ot birchen glades breathing their balm, While the deer was seen glancing in sunshine re¬ mote, And the deep mellow crush of the wood-pigeon a note Made music that sweeten’d the caim. Not a pastoral song has a pleasanter tune Than ye speak to my heart, little wilaings of June: Of old ruinous castles ye tell, Where I thought it delightful your beauties to find, When the magic of nature first breathed on my mind, And your blossoms wa - e part of the spe/L 258 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. Even now what affections the violet awakes! What loved little islands, twice 6een in then lakes, Can the wild water-lily restore! What landscapes I read in the primrose’s looks, And what pictures of pebbled and minnowy brooks, In the vetches that tangled their shore ! Earth’s cultureless buds, to my heart ye were dear, Ere the fever of passion, or ague of fear, Had scathed my existence’s bloom ; Once I welcome you more, in life’s passionless stage, With the visions of youth to revisit my age, And I wish you to grow on my tomb. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS, *51 IN EASTERN LANDS. BY. J. G. PERCIVAL. 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 a 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 the 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 cannot part, A twine of evergreen fondly wreathes. The cypress that daily shades the grave, Is sorrow that mourns her bitter lot, And faith that a thousand ills can brave Speaks in thy blue leaves—forget-me-not Then gather a wreath from the garden bowers. And tell the wish of thy heart in flowers. 17 858 THi FCETRY OF FLOW ERS. THE HONEYSUCKLE. BY THE COUNTESS OF BLESSINGTOW, 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 shrine ! dear, blissful home ! Source whence happiness doth come! Round by the cheerful hearth we meet All things beauteous—all things swenf Every solace of man’s life, Mother, daughter,—sister,—wife ! 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 ttie 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 * THE POETRY CF FLOWERS. 251 TO A SNOW-DROP. BY LANGHORNE. Poets still, in graceful numbers, May the glowing roses choose; But the snow-drop’s simple beauty Better suits an humble muse. Earliest bud that decks the garden, Fairest of the fragrant race, First-born child of vernal Flora, Seeking mild thy lowly place ; Though no warm or murmuring zephyf Fan thy leaves with balmy wing, Pleased we hail thee, spotless blossom, Herald of the infant spring. Through the cold and cheerless season Soft thy tender form expands, Safe in unaspiring graces, Foremost of the blooming bands. White-robed flower, in lonely beauty, Rising from a wintry bed ; Shilling winds, and blasts ungenial, Rudely threat’ning round thy head. 260 THE FOETKY OF FL0WEE3. Silv’ry bud, thy pensile foliage Seems the angry blasts to fear; Yet secure, thy tender texture Ornaments the rising year. No warm tints, or vivid colouring. Paint thy bells with gaudy pride ; Mildly charm’d we seek thy fragrance Where no thorns insidious hide. Tis not thine, with flaunting beauty, To attract the roving sight; Nature from her varied wardrobe, Chose thy vest of purest white. White a» /alls the fleecy shower, Thy soft form in sweetness grows; Not more fair the valley’s treasure, Not more sweet her lily blows. Drooping harbinger of Flora, Simply are thy blossoms drest; Artless as the gentle virtues Mansion’d in the blameless breast. When to pure and timid virtue Friendship twines a votive wreath, O’er the fair selected garland Thou thy perfume soft shalt breaths. THE POETRY CF FLOWERS. 26l TO THE PASSION-FLOWER. BY BERNARD BARTON. If Superstition’s baneful art First gave thy mystic name, Reason, I trust, would steel my heart Against its groundless claim; But if, in fancy’s pensive hour, By grateful feelings stirr’d, Her fond imaginative power That name at first conferr’d— Though lightly truth her flights may prixa, By wild vagary driven, For once their blameless exercise May surely be forgiven. We roam the seas—give new-found isles Some king’s or conqueror’s name: We rear on earth triumphant piles As meeds of earthly fame We soar to heaven ; and to outlive Our life’s contracted span, Unto the glorious stars we give The nant es of mortal man : 862 THE POETRY 5F FLOWERS. Then may not one poor floweret’s bloom The holier memory share Of Him, who, to avert our doom, Vouchsafed our sins to bear ? God dwelleth not in temples rear’d By work of human hands, Yet shrines august, by men revered Are found in Christian lands. And may not e’en a simple flower Proclaim His glorious praise, Whose fiat, only, had the power Its form from earth to raise ? Then freely let thy blossom ope Its beauties—to recall A scene which bids the humble hope In Him who died for all! THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 263 THE LILY OF THE VALLEY BY BISHOP MANT. Fair flower, that, lapt in lowly glade, Dost hide beneath the greenwood shade Than whom the vernal gale None fairer wakes, on bank, or spray, Our England’s lily of the May, Our lily of the vale ! Art thou that “ Lily of the field,” Which, when the Saviour sought to shield The heart from blank despair, He show’d to our mistrustful kind, An emblem of the thoughtful mind Of God’s paternal care? Not this. I trow; for brighter shina To the warm skies of Palestine Those children of the East: There, when mild autumn’s early rain Descends on parch'd Esdrela’s plain And Tabor’s oak-girt crest, More frequent than the host of night, Those earth-born stars, as sages write, Their brilliant disks unfold; 264 THE I OETKY OV FLC (VERS. Fit symbol of imperial state, Their sceptre-seeming forms ela.e, And crowns of burnish’d gold. But not the less, sweet spring-tide’s flower, Dost thou display the Maker’s power, His skill and handy work, Our western valleys’ humbler child, Where, in green nook of woodland wild, Thy modest blossoms lurk. What though nor care nor art be thine, The loom to ply, the thread to twine, Yet born to bloom and fade, Thee to a lovelier robe arrays, Than, e en in Israel’s brightest days, Her wealthiest kings array’d. Of thy twin-leaves the embower’d screen, Which wraps thee in thy shroud of green 1'hy Edan-breathing smell; Thy arch’d and purple-vested stem. Whence pendent many a pearly gem, Displays a milk-white bell; Instinct with life thy fibrous root, Which sends from earth the ascending shoot, As rising from the dead, And fills thy veins with verdant juice, Charged thy fair blossoms to produce, And berries scarlet red; THE POETRY OP FLOW ERS. 865 The triple cell, the two-fold seed, A ceaseless treasure-house decreed, Whence aye thy race may grow, As from creation they have grown, While spring shall weave her flowery crown, Or vernal breezes blow; Who forms thee thus, with unseen hand? Who at creation gave command, And will’d thee thus to be ; And keeps thee still in being, through Age after age revolving! Who But the great God is he? Omnipotent, to work his will; Wise, who contrives each part to fill The post to each assign’d; Still provident, with sleepless care, To keep; to make thee sweet and fair For man’s enjoyment—kind! “ There is no God,” the senseless say:— “ O God! why cast’st thou us away ?” Of feeble faith and frail, The mourner breathes his anxious thought , By thee a better lesson taught, Sweet lily of the vale! Yes, He who made and fosters thee, In reason’s eye perforce must be 01 majesty divine 866 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. Nor deems she, that his guardian care Will He in man’s support forbear, Who thus provides for thine. —♦ THE FLOWER-GAKDHiN. BY BARRY CORNWALL. There the Rose unveils Her breast of beauty, and each delicate bud O’ the season comes in turn to bloom and perish. But first of all the Violet, with an eye Blue as the midnight heavens ; the frail Snow-drop, Born of the breath of winter, and on his brow Fix’d like a pale and solitary star; The languid Hyacinth and pale Primrose, And Daisy trodden down like modesty ; The Foxglove, in whose drooping bells the bee Makes her sweet music; the Narcissus , (named From him who died for love,) the tangled Wood¬ bine, Lilacs, and flowering Limes, and scented Thorns, And some from the volu/tuous winds of June Catch their perfuming* fHE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. PART FIRST. Abecedary. Volubility. Abatina. Fickleness. Acacia. Friendship. Acacia, Rose or White. Elegance.' Acacia, Yellow. Secret love. Acanthus. The fine arts. Artifice. Ac alia. Temperance. Achillea Millefolia. War. Achimenes Cupreata.. .Such worth is rare. Aconite (Wolfsbane).. Misanthropy. Aconite, Crowfoot. Lustre Adonis, Flos. Sad memories. African Marigold. Vulgar minds. Agnus Castus... Coldness, Indifference. Agrimony. Thankfulness. Gratitude. Almond (Common)_ Stupidity. Indiscretion. Almond (Flowering). ..Hope. Almond, Laurel. Perfidy. Allspice. Compassion. Aloe.... .. Grief. Religious supersti¬ tion. 268 THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS Althaea Frutex (Syrian Mallow). . Persuasion. Alvssum (Sweet). . Worth beyond beauty. Amaranth (Globe).... .Immortality. Unfading love. Amaranth (Cocks- comb). .Foppery. Affectation. Amaryllis... -. .Pride. Timidity. Splen- did beauty. Ambrosia. . Love returned. American Cowslip.... . Divine beauty. American Elm. . Patriotism. American Linden. .Matrimony. American Starwort... . Welcome to a stranger. Cheerfulness in old age. Amethyst. . A dmiration. Andromeda. .Self-sacrifice. Anemone (Zephyr Flower). .Sickness. Expectation. Anemone (Garden).. . Forsaken. Angelica. .Inspiration, or Magic. Angrec. . Loyalty. Apricot (Blossom).. . Doubt. Apple. . Temptation. Apple (Blossom).... . Preference. Fame speaks him qreat and good. Apple, Thorn. . Deceitful charms. Apocynum (Dogsbane) Deceit. Arbor Vitae. . Unchanging friendship . Live for me. Arum (Wake Kobin) . Ardor. Zeal. Ash-leaved Trumpet Flower. .Separation. Ash, Mountain. .Prudence, or With me you are safe. THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. 269 Ash Tree . Grandeur. Aspen Tree'.'.!! . Lamentation or fear. Aster (China). Variety. Afterthought. Asphodel. My regrets follow you to the grave. Auricula... • .Painting. Auricula, Scarlet. Avarice. Austurtium. Splendor. Azalea. Temperance. Bachelor’s Buttons.... Celibacy. Balm . Sympathy. Balm, Gentle. Pleasantry. Balm of Gilead. Cure. Belief. Balsam Red. Touch me not. Impatient resolves. Balsam, Yellow. Impatience. Barberry. Sharpness of temper. B as ii....]. Hatred. Bay Leaf. I change but in death. Bay (Rose) Rhododen¬ dron .. Hanger. Beware. Bay Tree!!. Bay Wreath. Reward of merit. Bearded Crepis. Protection. Beech Tree. Prosperity. Bee Orchis. Industry. BeeOphrys. .. Begonia. Deformity Belladonna. Silence. HushI Bell Flower, Pyrami- dal_ v . Constancy. Bell Flower (small _ w hite) . Gratitude. Belvedere. I declare against you. 270 THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. Betony. Surprise. Bilberry. Treachery. Bindweed, Great. Insinuation. Importu¬ nity. Bindweed, Small. Humility. Birch. Meekness. Birdsfoot, Trefoil. Revenge. Bittersweet; Night¬ shade . Truth. Black Poplar. Courage. Blackthorn. Difficulty. Bladder Nut Tree. Frivolity. Amusement. Bluebottle (Centaury) .Delicacy. Bluebell. Constancy. Sorrowful re¬ gret. Blue-flowered Greek V alerian. Rupture. Bonus Henricus. Goodness. Borage. Bluntness. Box Tree. Stoicism. Bramble. Lowliness. Envy. Re¬ morse. Branch of Currants... You please all. Branch of Thorns. Severity. Rigor. Bridal Rose. Happy Love. Broom .. .Humility. Neatness. Browallia Jamisonii... Could you bear poverty f Buckbean. Calm repose. Bud of White Rose.... Heart ignorance of love. Buglos. Falsehood. Bulrush. Indiscretion. Docility. Bundle of Reeds, with their Panicles. Music. Burdock .. Importunity. Touch me not. i *HE LANGUAGE OP FLOWEE3. 271 Bur. . Rudeness. You weary me. . Ingratitude, Childishness. . Gayety. Buttercup (Kingcup). Butterfly Orchis. Butterfly Weed. .Let me go. Cabbage . .Profit. Cacalia. . Adulation. Cactus. . Warmth. Calla iEthiopica. .Magnificent beauty. Calceolaria. .1 offer you pecuniary as. Calycanthus. sistance, or I offer you my fortune. . Benevolence. Camellia Japonica, Red. . Unpretending excellence. Camellia Japonica, White. Perfected loveliness. Camomile. . Energy in adversity. Campanula Pyramida. . Aspiring. Canary Grass. . Perseverance. Candytuft. .Indifference. Canterbury Bell. . Acknowledgment. Cape Jasmine. . I am too happy. Cardamine. . Paternal error. Carnation, Deep Red. . Alas ! for my poor heart. Carnation, Striped... . Refusal. Carnation, Yellow... .Disdain. Cardinal Flower. . Distinction. Catchfly. .Snare. Catchfly, Red. . Youthful love. Catchfly, White. . Betrayed. Cattleya. . Mature charms. Cattleya Pineli. .Matronly grace. Cedar. . Strength. Cedar of Lebanon.... . Incorruptible. 272 THE LANGUAGE OF FLO WEBS. Cedar Leaf. Hive for thee. Celandine (Lesser).... Joys to come. Cereus (Creeping). Modest genius. Centaury. Delicacy. Champignon. . Suspicion. Checkered Fritillary. .Persecution. Cherry Tree, White... Good education. Cherry Tree, White.. .Deception. Chestnut Tree. Do me justice. Chinese Primrose. Lasting love. Chickweed. Rendezvous. Chiccory. Frugality. China Aster. Variety. China Aster, Doubl &.. I partake your sentiments. China Aster, Single ... Twill think of it. China or Indian Pink. .Aversion. China Rose. Beauty always new. Chinese Chrysanthe- Cheerfulness under ad- mum. versity. Chorozema Varium- You have many lovers. Christmas Rose. Relieve my anxiety. Chrysanthemum, Red .Ilove. Chrysanthemum, White. Truth. Chrysanthemum, Yel¬ low. . Slighted love. Cineraria. Always delightful. Cinquefoil. Maternal affection. Circsea. Spell. Cistus, or Rock Rose.. Popular favor. Cistus, Gum. I shall die to-morrow. Citron. Ill-natured beauty. Clarkia. The variety of your con¬ versation delights me. Clematis. Mental beauty. THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. 278 Clematis, Evergreen.. Poverty. Worldliness. Self-seeking, Clianthus . Clotbur. Rudeness. Pertinacity. Cloves. Dignity. Clover, Four-leaved.. Be mine. Clover, Red. Industry. Clover, White. Think of me. Cobaea. Gossip. Cockscomb Amaranth . Foppery. Affectation* Singularity. Colckicum, or Meadow Saffron. .My lest days are past. Justice shall be done. Coltsfoot. Columbine. .Folly. Columbine, Purple... Resolved to win. Columbine, Red. Anxious and trembling. Convolvulus. Convolvulus, Blue Bond o. (Minor). . Repose. Night. Convolvulus, Major.. .Extinguished hopes. Worth sustained by judi¬ cious and tender affec¬ tion. Convolvulus, Pink... Corcborus . Impatient of absence. Coreopsis . .Always cheerful. Coreopsis Arkansa... .Love at first sight. Coriander . . Hidden worth. Corn . . Riches. Corn, Broken . . Quarrel. Corn Straw . . Agreement. Corn Bottle . . Delicacy. Corn Cockle . . Gentility. Cornel Tree . . Duration. Coronella . .Success crown your wishes. Cosmelia Subra . . The charm of a blush. ---j ■— 274 the language of flowers. Cowslip. . Pensiveness. Winning Cowslip, American.. . grace. . Divine beauty. Crab (Blossom) . .Ill nature. Cranberry . . Cure for heartache. Creeping Cereus . . Horror. Cress . .Stability. Pmoer. Crocus . .Abuse not. Crocus, Spring. . Youthful gladness. Crocus, Saffron. .Mirth. Crown, Imperial. . Majesty. Power. Crowsbill. .Envy. Crowfoot. . Ingratitude. Crowfoot (Aconite- leaved) . . Lustre. Cuckoo Plant . . Ardor. Cudweed, America*.. . Unceasinq remembrance. Currant . . Thy frown will kill me. Cuscuta . . Meanness. Cyclamen . . Diffidence. Cypress . .Death. Mourning. Daffodil . . Regard. Dahlia . Instability. Daisy . . Innocence. Daisy, Garden . . I share your sentiments. Daisy, Michaelmas. .. .Farewell, or afterthought. Daisy, Party-colored . . Beauty. Daisy, Wild . 1 wilt think of it. Damask Rose . Brilliant complexion. Dandelion . Rustic oracle. Daphne . . Glory. Immortality. Daphne Odora. .Painting the lily. Darnel. . Vice. Dead Leaves. .Sadness. THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 276 Deadly Nightshade... .Falsehood. Dew Plant. A serenade. Dianthus. .... Make haste. Diosma. Your simple elegance charms me. Dipteracanthus Spec- tabilis. Fortitude. Diplademia Crassi- noda. You. are too bold. Dittany of Crete_ Birth. Dittany of Crete, White. Passion. Dock. Patience. Dodder of Thyme. Baseness. Dogsbane. Deceit. Falsehood. Dogwood. Durability. Dragon Plant. Snare. Dragonwort. Horror. Dried Flax. Utility. Ebony Tree. Blackness. Echites Atropurpurea.i?e warned in time. Eglantine (Sweet- brier) . Poetry. I wound to heal « Elder. Zealousness. Elm. Dignity. Enchanters’ Night¬ shade . Witchcraft. Sorcery. Endive .. Frugality. Escholzia. Do not refuse me. E up atorium. Delay. Everflowering Candy¬ tuft . Indifference. Evergreen Clematis... Poverty. Evergreen Thorn. Solace in adversity. 276 THE LANGUAGE 01 FLOWERS. Everlasting. Never - ceasing remem- brance. Everlasting Pea. Lasting pleasure. Fennel . Worthy all praise. Strength. Fern. .Fascination. Magic. Sin- Ficoides, Ice Plant... cerity. . Your loohs freeze me. Fig. .Argument. Fig Marigold. Idleness. Fig Tree. Prolific. Filbert. . Reconciliation. Fir. . Time. Fir Tree. . Elevation. Flax. Flax-leaved Golden- .Domestic industry. Fait. Ifeel your kindness. locks. . Tardiness. Fleur-de-lis. . Flame. I burn. Fleur-de-Luce. .Fire. Flowering Fern. . Reverie. Flowering Reed. . Confidence in Heaven. Flower-oi-an-Hour ... . Delicate beauty. Fly Orchis. .Error. Flytrap. . Deceit. Fool’s Parsley. .Silliness. Forget-Me-Not. . True love. Foxglove. . Insincerity. Foxtail Grass. Franciscea Latifolia. . beware of false friends. French Honeysuckle . Rustic beauty. French Marigold.... . Jealousy. French Willow. . Bravery and humanity. Frog Ophrys. . Disgust. THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. 277 Fuller’s Teasel. Misanthropy. Fumitory. Spleen. Fuchsia, Scarlet. Taste. Furze, or Gorse. Love for all seasons. Garden Anemone. Forsaken. Garden Chervil. Sincerity. Garden Daisy. I partake your sentiments. Garden Marigold. Uneasiness. Garden Ranunculus... You are rich in attrac¬ tions. Garden Sage. Esteem. Garland of Roses. Reward of virtue. Gardenia. Refine r ment. Germander Speedwell. Facility. Geranium, Dark. Melancholy. Geranium, Horse-shoe Leaf. Stupidity. Geranium, Ivy. Bridal favor. Geranium, Lemon. Unexpected meeting. Geranium, Nutmeg- Expected meeting. Geranium, Oak-leaved. True friendship. Geranium, Pencilled.. Ingenuity. Geranium, Rose-scent¬ ed. Preference. Geranium, Scarlet_ Comforting. Geranium, Silver¬ leaved . Recall. Geranium, Wild. Steadfast piety. Gillyflower. Bonis of affection. Gladioli. Ready armed. Glory Flower. ........ Glorious beauty. Goat’s Rue. Reason. Golden Rod. Precaution. Gooseberry..... .Anticipation. 278 THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. Gourd. Extent. Bulk. Grammanthus Chlora- flora. Your temper is too hasty. Grape, Wild. Charity. Grass. Submission. Utility. Guelder Rose. Winter. Age. Hand Flower Tree. Warning. Harebell . Submission. Grief, Hawkweed. Quicksightedness. Hawthorn. Hope. Hazel. Beconciliation. Heartsease, or Pansy.. Thoughts. Heath-:. Solitude. H elenium . Tears. Heliotrope. Devotion, or I turn thee. Hellebore . Scandal. Calumny. Helmet Flower (Monks¬ hood). Knight-errantry. Hemlock. You will he my death. Hemp. Fate. Henbane. Imperfection. Hepatica. Confidence. Hibiscus. Delicate heauty. Hoi ly. Foresight. Holly Herb. Enchantment. Hollyhock. Ambition. Fecundity. Honesty. Honesty. Fascination. Honey Flower... _ Love sweet and secret. Honeysuckle. Generous and devoted af¬ fection. Honeysuckle (Coral).. The color of my fade. Honeysuckle (French). Rustic heauty. Hop. Injustice. Hornbeam. Ornament. THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 279 Horse Chestnut. Luxury. Hortensia. You are cold. Houseleek. Vivacity. Domestic In¬ dustry. Houstonia. Content. Hoya. Sculpture. Hoyabella. Contentment. Humble Plant. Despondency. # Hundred-leaved Ros & .Dignity of mind. Hyacinth. Sport. Game. Flay. Hyacinth, Purple. Sorrowful. Hyacinth, White. Unobtrusive loveliness. Hydrangea. A boaster. Hyssop. Cleanliness. Iceland Moss. Health. Ice Plant. Your looks freeze me. Imbricata. Uprightness. Sentiments of honor. Imperial Montague.... Power. Indian Cress. Warlike trophy. Indian Jasmine (Ipo- moea). Attachment. Indian Pink (Double). .Always lovely. Indian Plum. Privation. Iris... Message. Iris, German. Flame. Iyj. Friendship. Fidelity. Marriage. Ivy, Sprig of, with Tendrils. Assiduous to please. Jacob’s Ladder. Comedown. Japan Rose. Beauty is your only at¬ traction. 280 THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. Jasmine. . Amiability. Jasmine, Cape. Jasmine, Carolina_ . Transport of joy. . Separation. Jasmine, Indian. . I attach myself to you. Jasmine, Spanish.... Jasmine, Yellow. .Sensuality. . Grace and elegance. Jonquil. . I desire a ret/urn of af- Judas Tree. fection . Tjnbelief. Betrayal. •Juniper. .Succor. Protection. Justicia. The perfection of female loveliness. Kennedia. . Mental beauty. King-cups. .Desire of riches. Laburnum. .Forsaken. Pensive Lady’s Slipper. Beauty. . Capricious beauty. Win me and wear me . Lagerstraemia, Indian .Eloquence. Lantana . Big or. Lapageria Rosea. There is no unalloyed Larch. good. Audacity. Boldness. Larkspur. . Lightness. Levity. Larkspur, Pink. .Fickleness. Larkspur, Purple.... Haughtiness. Laurel . Glory. Laurel, Common, in flower. Perfidy. Laurel, Ground. Perseverance. Laurel, Mountain.... .Ambition. Laurel-leaved Mag¬ nolia . Dignity. THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. 281 Laurestina. A token. Lavender. Distrust. Leaves (dead). Melancholy. Lemon. Zest. Lemon Blossoms. Leschenaultia Splen- Fidelity in love. dens. Ton are charming. Lettuce. Cold-heartedness. Lichen. Dejection. Solitude. Lilac, Field. Humility. Lilac, Purple. .First emotions of love. Lilac, White. Youthful innocence. Lily, Day. Coquetry. Lily, Imperial. .Majesty. Lily, White. . Purity. Sweetness. Lily, Yellow. .Falsehood. Gayety. Lily of the Valley.... , Return of happiness. Un* conscious sweetness. Linden or Lime Trees . Conjugal love. Lint. .1 feel my obligations. .Inberty. . Confidence. Live Oak. Liverwort. Liquorice, Wild. . I declare against you. Lobelia. . Malevolence. Locust Tree. . Elegance. Locust Tree (green).. . Affection beyond the gran. London Pride. .Frivolity. Lote Tree.*.... . Concord. Lotus. . Eloquence. Lotus Flower. . Estranged love. Lotus Leaf. . Recantation. Love in a Mist. . Perplexity. Love lies Bleeding... .Hopeless, not heartless. Lucern. .Life. Lupine. . Voraciousness. 282 THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. Madder. Calumny. Magnolia. Love of Nature. Magnolia, Swamp. Perseverance. Mallow. Mildness. Mallow, Marsh. Beneficence. Mallow, Syrian... Consumed by love. Mallow, Venetian. Delicate beauty. Malon Creeana. Will you, share m/y for¬ tunes ? Manchineal Tree. Falsehood. Mandrake. Horror. Maple. Reserve. Marianthus. Hope for better days. Marigold. Grief. Marigold, African. Vulgar minds. Marigold, French. Jealousy. Marigold, Prophetic.. .Prediction. Marigold and Cypress. Despair. Marjoram. Blushes. Marvel of Peru. Timidity. Meadow Lychnis. Wit. Meadow Saffron. My best days are past. Meadowsweet.. Uselessness. Mercury. Goodness. Mesembryanthemum. .Idleness. Mezereon. Desire to please. Michaelmas Daisy. Afterthought. Mignonette .... Tour qualities surpass your charms. Milfoil... War. Milk vetch... Your presence softens my pains. Milkwort. Hermitage. Mimosa (Sensitive Plant). Sensitiveness. ) THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 283 Mint.. . Virtue. Mistletoe. Isurmount difficulties. Mitraria Coccinea.... .Indolence, fulness. Mock Orange. Monarda Amplexi- . Gourderfeit. caulis. . Tour whims are quite un> bearable. Monkshood. Monkshood (Helmet . A deadly foe is near. Flower). Chivalry. Kivight-er- Moonwort. rantry. Forgetfulness. Morning Glory. .Affectation. . Weakness. Moschatel. Moss. .Maternal love. Mosses. Ennui. Mossy Saxifrage. .Affection. Motherwort... Concealed love. Mountain Ash. Prudence. Mourning Bride. Mouse-eared Chick- Unfortunate attachment. 1 have lost all. weed. Mouse-eared Scorpion Ingenuous simplicity. grass. Forget me not. Moving Plant. Aqttation. Mudwort. .Happiness. Tranquillity. .I shall not survive you. Mulberry Tree (Black) Mulberry Tree (White) . Wisdom. Mushroom. .Suspicion, or I can’t en* tirely trust you. Musk Plant. . Weakness. Mustard Seed. . Indifference. Myrobalan. .Privation. Myrrh. . Gladness. ( ~ .■ ' . ..—-*- 284 THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. Myrtle. .Love. Narcissus . Nasturtium. Nemophila . Nettle, Common Sting ing. Nettle, Burning. Nettle Tree. Night-blooming Ce- reus. Night Convolvulus... Nightshade. .Egotism. . Patriotism. .Success everywhere. . You are spiteful. .Slander. . Conceit. . Transient beauty. Night. . Falsehood. Oak Leaves. Oak Tree. Oak (White).. Oats. Bravery. .Hospitality. Independence. The witching soul of music. Beioare. .Peace. Your purity equals your loveliness. Chastity. Bridal fee. tivities. Generosity. A belle. Frankness. Dreams. Patience. Oleander. Olive. Orange Blossoms.... Orange Flowers. Orange Tree. Orchis . Osier. Osmunda. Ox Eye. Palm. Pansy . Parsley. Pasque Flower. Victory. Thoughts. Festivity. You have no claims THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 285 Passion Flower. Religious superstition, when the flower is re¬ versed, or Faith if erect. Patience Dock. Patience. Pea, Everlasting. An appointed, meeting. Lasting pleasure. Pea, Sweet. Departure. Peach. Your qualities, like your charms, are unequalled. Peach Blossom. Iam your captive. Pear. Affection. Pear Tree. Comfort. Penstemon Azureum. .High-bred. Pennyroyal. Flee away. Peony. Shame. Bashfulness. Peppermint. Warmth of feeling. Periwinkle, Blue. Early friendship. Periwinkle, White. Pleasures, of memory. Persicaria. Restoration. Persimon. Bury me amid Nabu/rds beauties. Peruvian Heliotrope.. .Devotion. Petunia.„ Your presence soothes me. Pheasant’s Eye. Remembrance. Phlox. Unanimity. Pigeon Berry. Didifference. Pimpernel. Change. Assignation. Pine. Pity- Pine-apple. You are perfect. Pine, Pitch. Philosophy. Pine, Spruce. Hope in adversity. Pink. Boldness. Pink, Carnation. Woman’s love. Pink, Indian, Double.. Always lovely. Pink, Indian, Single.. .Aversion. 286 THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWEES. Pink, Mountain. . Aspiring. Pink, Red, Double... .Pure and ardent love. Pink, Single. Pink, Variegated. .Pure love. . Refusal. Pink, White. .Ingeniousness. Talent. Plantain. . White man’s footsteps. Plane Tree. . Genius. Plum, Indian. .Privation. Plum Tree. .Fidelity. Plum, Wild. . Independence. Plumbago Larpenta.. .Roly wishes. Polyanthus . . Pride of riches. Polyanthus, Crimson. . The heart’s mystery. Polyanthus, Lilac.... . Confidence. Pomegranate. .Foolishness. Pomegranate Flower. . Mature elegance. Poor Robin. . Compensation, or an equivalent. Poplar, Black. . Courage. Poplar, White. . Time. Poppy, Red. . Consolation. Poppy, Scarlet. .Fantastic extravagance. Poppy, White. .Sleep. My bane. Potato. . Benevolence. Potentilla. .1 claim, at least, your esteem. Prickly Pear. .Satire. Pride of China. . Dissension. Primrose. . Early youth and sadness. Primrose, Evening... . Inconstancy. Primrose, Red. . Unpatronized merit. Privet. .Prohibition. Purple Clover. .Provident. Pyrus Japonica. . Fairied fire. THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 287 Quaking-grass. Agitation. Quamoclit. Busybody. Queen’s Rocket. You are the queen of coquettes. Fashion. Quince. Temptation. Ragged-robin. Wit. Ranunculus. You are radiant with cnarms. Ranunculus, Garden.. You are rich in attrac¬ tions. Ranunculus, Wild. Ingratitude. Raspberry. Remorse. Ray Grass. Vice. Red Catchfly. Youthful love. Reed. Complaisance. Music. Reed, Split. Indiscretion. Rhododendron (Rose- bay). Danger. Beware. Rhubarb. Advice. Rocket. Rivalry. Rose. Love. Rose, Austrian. Thou art all that is lovely. Rose, Bridal.. .Happy love. Rose, Burgundy. Unconscious beauty. Rose, Cabbage. Ambassador of love. Rose, Campion. Only deserve my love. Rose, Carolina. Love is dangerous. Rose, China. Beauty always new. Rose, Christmas. Tranquillize my anxiety, Rose, Daily. Thy smile I aspire to. Rose, Damask. Brilliant complexion. Rose, Deep Red. Bashful shame. Rose, Dog. Pleasure and pain. Rose, Guelder. Winter. Age. 288 THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. Rose, Hundred-leaved. Pride. Rose, Japan. Beauty is yotvr only at¬ traction. Rose, Maiden Blush.. .If you love me you will find it out. Rose, Montiflora. (Trace. Rose, Mundi. Variety. Rose, Musk. Capricious beauty. Rose, Musk, Cluster... Charming. Rose, Single. Simplicity. Rose, Thornless. Early attachment. Rose, Unique. Call me not beautiful. Rose, White. I am worthy of you. Rose, White (with¬ ered) . Transient impressions. Rose, Yellow. Decrease of love. Jealousy t, Rose, York and Lan¬ caster . War. Rose, Full-blown, placed over two Buds. Secrecy Rose, White and Red together. Unitj. Roses, Crown of. Reward of virtue. Rosebud, Red. Pare ana lovely. Rosebud, White. Girlhood. Rosebud, Moss. Confession of love Rosebud (Rhododen¬ dron) . Sewara Danaenr Rosemary. nememoranva. Ruabeciaa. fustics. Rue. Disdain. Rush. Docility. Rye Crass. Changeable disposition THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. 289 Saffron. Beware, of excess. Saffron Crocus. Mirth,. Saffron. Meadow. My happiest days are past. Sage. Domestic virtue. Sage, Garden. Esteem. Sainfoin. Agitation. Saint John’s Wort... .Animosity Salvia, Blue. Wisdom. Salvia, Red. Energy. Saxifrage, Mossy. Affection. Scabious. Unfortunate love. Scabious, Sweet. Widowhood. Scarlet Lychnis. Sunbeaming eyes. Schinus. Religious enthusiasm. Scotch Fir. Elevation. Sensitive Plant. Sensibility. Senvy. Indifference. Shamrock. Ligft-heartedness. Shepherd’s Purse. I offer you my all. Siphocampylos. Resolved to be noticed. Snakesfoot.;.. .Horror. Snapdragon. Presumption, also u No.’ Snowball. Bound. Snowdrop. Hope. Sorrel. Affection. Sorrel, Wild. Wit ill-timed. Sorrel, Wood. Joy. Southernwood. Jest. Bantering. Spanish Jasmine. Sensuality. Spearmint. Warmth of sentiment. Speedwell. Female fidelity. Speedwell, Gevmtm&QT.Facility. Speedwell, Spiked_ Semblance. Spider Ophrys. Adroitness. Spiderwort. Esteem, not love. 290 the language of flowers. Spiked Willow Herb. Pretension. Spindle Tree. Tour charms are engraven on my heart. Star of Bethlehem.... Purity. Starwort. Afterthought. Starwort, American.. Cheerfulness in old age. Stephanotis. Will you accompany me to the East ? Stock. Lasting beauty. Stock, Ten Week.... .Promptness. Stonecrop . Tranquillity. Straw, Broken. Rupture of a contract. Straw, Whole. . Union. Strawberry Blossoms. . Foresight. Strawberry Tree-.. .Esteem, not love. Sultan, Lilac. . Iforgive you. Sultan, White. .Sweetness. Sultan, Yellow. . Contempt. Sumach, Venice. . Splendor. Sunflower, Dwarf.... .Adoration. Sunflower, Tall. . Haughtiness. Swallow-wort. . Cure for heartache. . Good wishes. Sweet Basil. Sweetbrier, American. Simplicity. Sweetbrier, European .7 wound to heal. Sweetbrier, Yellow... . Decrease of love. Sweet Pea. . Delicate p leasures. Sweet Sultan. .Felicity. Sweet William. . Gallantry. Sycamore. . Curiosity. Syringa. . Memory. Syringa, Carolina.... . Disappointment. Tamarisk. . Crime. Tansy (Wild). - T ~ —. — . . ■ ■■- . - . Ideclare war against you. THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. 291 A Teasel. Misanthropy. Tendrils of Climbing Plants. Ties. Thistle, Common. Austerity. Thistle, Fuller’s. Misanthropy. Thistle, Scotch. Retaliation. Tiiorn Apple.. .Deceitful charms. Thorn, Branch of. Seventy. Thrift. Sympathy. Throatwort. Neglected beauty. , Thyme. Activity or courage. Tiger Flower. For once may pride be¬ friend me. Traveller’s Joy. Safety. Tree of Life. Old age. Trefoil. Revenge. Tremella Nestoc. Resistance. Trillium Pictum. Modest beauty. Triptilion Spinosum.. .Beprudent. Truffle. Surprise. Trumpet Flower. Fame. Tuberose. Dangerous pleasures. Tulip, Red.. Declaration of love. Tulip, Variegated. Beautif ul eyes. Tulip, Yellow. Hopeless love. Turnip. Charity. Tussilage (Sweet- scented) . Justice shall be done you. Valerian . An accommodating dispo¬ sition. Valerian, Greek. Rupture. Venice Sumach. Intellectual excellence. Splendor. Venus’s Car. Fly with me. 292 THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWEBS. Venus’s Looking-glass. Flattery. Venus's Trap. Deceit. Verbena, Pink. Family union. Verbena, Scarlet. Unite against evil, or Church unity. Verbena, White. Pray for me. Vernal Grass. Poor, hut happy. Veronica. Fidelity. Veronica Speciosa_ Keep this for my sake. Vervain. Enchantment. Vine , .. Intoxication. Violet, Blue. Faithfulness. Violet, Dame. Watchfulness. Violet, Sweet. Modesty. Violet, Tellow. Rural happiness. Virginia Creeper. 1 cling to you both in sun¬ shine and shade. Virgin’s Bower. Filial love. Viscaria Oculata. Will you dance with me f Volkamenia. May you he happy. Walnut. Intellect. Stratagem. Wall-flower. Fidelity in adversity. Watcher by the Way- side. Never despair. Water Lily. Purity of heart Water Melon. Bulkiness. Wax Plant.. .Susceptibility. Wheat Stalk. Riches. Whin. Anger ._ . White Jasmine___ .Amiability. White Lily. Purity and modesty. White Mullein. Good-nature. White Oak. Independence. White Pink. Talent. THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. White Poplar. Time. White Rose (dried).... Death preferable to loss of innocence. Whortleberry. Treason. Willow, Creeping. Love forsaken. Willow, Water. Freedom. Willow, Weeping. Mourning. Willow Herb. Pretension. Willow, French. Bravery and humanity. Winter Cherry. Deception. Wisteria. Welcome, fair stranger. Witch Hazel.H spell. Woodbine. Fraternal love. Wood Sorrel. Joy. Maternal tenderness. W ormwood. Absence. Xanthium. Rudeness. Pertinacity. Xeranthemum. Cheerfulness under adver¬ sity. Yew. Sorrow. Zephyr Flower. Expectation. Zinnia. Thoughts of absent friend*. PART SECOND. Absence. Wormwood. Abuse not. Crocus. Acknowledgment. Canterbury Bell. Activity, or Courage.. Thyme. A deadly foe is near.. .Monkshood. Admiration. Amethyst. Adoration. Dwarf Sunflower. Adroitness. Spider Ophrys. Adulation. Cacalia. Advice. Rhubarb. Affection. Mossy Saxifrage. Affection. Pear. Affection. Sorrel. Affection beyond the grave.. Green Locust. Affection, maternal_ Cinquefoil. Affectation. Cockscomb Amaranth, Affectation.. Morning Glory. Afterthought. Michaelmas Daisy. Afterthought. Star wort. Afterthought. China Aster. Agreement. Straw. Age. Guelder Rose, Agitation. Moving Plant. Agitatio n. Sainfoin. Alas ! for my poor heart. Deep Red Carnation. Always cheerful. Coreopsis. THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 295 Always lovely. Indian Pink ( double ). Always delightful. Cineraria. Ambassador of love... Cabbage Bose. Amiability. Jasmine. Anger... Whin, or Gorse. Animosity. St. John’s Wort. Anticipation. Gooseberry. Anxious and trembling. Columbine. Ardor, Zeal. Cuckoo Plant. Arum. Argument. Fig. Arts, or Artifice. Acanthus. Assiduous to please.. .Sprig of ivy with tendrils. Assignati on. Pimpernel. Attachment. Indian Jasmine. Audacity. Larch. Avarice. Scarlet Auricula. Aversion. China, or Indian Pink. Bantering. Southernwood. Baseness. Dodder of Thyme. Bashfulness. Peony. Bashful shame. Deep Bed Bose. Be prudent. Triptilion Spinosum. Be warned in time... .Echites Atro-purpurea. Beautiful eyes. Variegated Tulip. Beauty. Parti-colored Daisy. Beauty always new.... China Bose. Beauty, capricious ....Lady’s Slipper. Beauty, capricious ... .Musk Rose. Beauty, delicate. Flower of an hov/r. Beauty, delicate. Hibiscus. Beauty, divine. American Cowslip. Beauty, glorious. Glory Flower. Beauty, lasting. Stock. Beauty, magnificent... Golla JElhiopica. f 296 THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. Beauty, mental. Clematis. Beauty, modest. Trillium Pictum. Beauty, neglected. Throatwort. Beauty, pensive. Laburnum. Beauty, rustic. French Honeysuckle. Beauty, unconscious . .Burgundy Bose. ■ Beauty is your only attraction. Japan Rose. Belle _. Orchis. Be mine. Four-leaved Clover. Beneficence. Marshmallow. Benevolence .... Potato. Betrayed. White Catchfly. Beware. Oleander. Beware. Rosebay. Beware of a false friend. Frandscea Latifolia. Blackness. Ebony Tree. Bluntness. Borage. Blushes. Marjoram. Boaster. Hydrangea. Boldness. Pink. Bonds... Convolvulus. Bonds of Affection.... Gillyflower. Bravery. Oak Leaves. Bravery and humanity. French Willow , Bridal favor. Ivy Geranium. Brilliant complexion.. Damask Rose. Bulk. Water Melon, Bulk. Gourd. Busybody. Quamoclit. Bury me amid Na¬ ture’s beauties. Persimmon. Call me not beautiful.. Bose Unique. J THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. 297 Calm repose. . Buckbean. Calumny. .Hellebore. Calumny. .Madder. Change.. Changeable disposi- . Pimpernel. tion. .Rue Grass. Charity . . Turni/p. Charming. . Cluster of Musk Roses. . Thorn Apple. • Charms, deceitful.... Cheerfulness in old age. Cheerfulness under . American Starwort. adversity. . Chinese Chrysanthemum. Chivalry . . Monkshood. Cleanliness. .Hyssop. Coldheartedness .... . Lettuce. Coldness. .Agnus Castus. Color of my life. . Coral Honeysuckle. . Jacob’s Ladder. Come down. Comfort. .Pear Tree. Comforting. .Scarlet Geranium. Compassion. .Allspice. Concealed love. . Motherwort. Concert. .Nettle Tree. Concord. . .Lote Tree. Confession of love... .. Moss Rosebud. Confidence . . Hepatica. Confidence . . Luac Polyanthus. Confidence . .. Liverwort. Confidence in Heaven .Flowering Reed. Conjugal love. .. Lime or Linden Tree. ConsoTation. Constancy. .. Red Poppy. .. Bluebell. Consumed by love.. .. Syrian Mallow. . .Hoyabella. Contentment. 298 THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. Could you bear pov¬ erty. Browallia Jamisonii. Counterfeit. Mock Orange. Courage. Black Poplar. Crime. Tamarisk. Cure. Balm of Gilead. Cure for heartache_ Swallow-wort. Curiosity. Sycamore. Danger. Rhododendron Rosebay Dangerous pleasures.. Tuberose. Death. Cypress. Death preferable to loss of innocence_ White Rose {dried). Deceit. Apocynum. Deceit. Flytrap. Deceit. Dogsbane. Deceitful charms. Apple, Thorn. Deception. White Cherry Tree. Declaration of love_ Red Tulip. Decrease of love. Yellow Rose. Deformed. Begonia. Dejection. Lichen. Delay. Eupatorium. Delicacy. Bluebottle. Centaury . Desire to please. Mezereon. Despair. Cypress. Despondency. Humble Plant. Devotion, or I turn to thee. Peruvian Heliotrope. Difficulty. Blackthorn. Dignity. Cloves. Dignity. Laurel-leaved Magnolia. Disappointment. Syringa, Carolina. Disdain. Yelloio Carnation. THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWEBS. 299 Disdain. . Rue. Disgust. Dissension. .Frog Ophrys. .Pride of China. Distinction. . Cardinal Mower. Distrust. .Lavender. Divine beauty... .American Cowslip. Docility. . Rush. Domestic industry... .Flax. Domestic virtue. Do not despise my Sage. poverty. . Shepherd? s Purse. Do not refuse me. .Hschcolzia, or Carrot Flower. Doubt. .Apricot Blossom. Durability. . Dogwood. Duration. . Cornel Tree. Early attachment. . Thornless Rose. Early friendship. . Blue Periwinkle. Early youth. . Primrose. Elegance. .Locust Tree. Elegance and grace. . Yellow Jasmine. Elevation. .Scotch Fir. Eloquence . .Indian Lagerstroemia. Enchantment. . Holly Herb. Enchantment. . Vervain. Energy. . Red Salvia. Energy in adversity. . Camomile. Envy. . Bramble. Error. .Bee Orchis. Error. .Fly Orchis. Esteem. . Garden Sage. Esteem, not love.... .Spiderwort. .Strawberry Tree. Esteem, not love.... Estranged love. .Lotus Flower. 300 THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. Excellence. Camellia Japomca. Expectation. Anemone. Expectation. Zephyr Flower. Expected meeting. Nutmeg Geranium. Extent. Gourd. Extinguished hopes... Major Convolvulus. Facility^. Germander Speedwell. Fairies’ Fire. Pyrus Japomca. Faithfulness. Blue Violet. Faithfulness. Heliotrope. Falsehood. Bug loss. Deadly Night¬ shade. Falsehood. Yellow Lily. Falsehood. Manchineal Tree. Fame . Tulip. Fame speaks him great and good. Apple Blossom. Family union. Pink Verbena. Fantastic extrava¬ gance . Scarlet Poppy. Farewell. Michaelmas Da Fascination.. Fern. Fascination. Honesty. Fashion. Queen's Rocket. Fecundity. Hollyhock. Felicity . Sweet Sultan. Female fidelity. Speedwell. Festivity. Parsley. Fickleness. Abatina. Fickleness. Pink Larkspur. Fidelity. Veronica. Ivy. Fidelity. Plum Tree. Fidelity in adversity... Wall-flower. Fidelity in love. Lemon Blossoms. THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. 301 Filial love. Virgin's Bower. Fire. Fleur-de-Luce. First emotions of love. Purple Lilac. Flame. Fleur-de-lis. Ins. Flattery. Venus’s LooMng-glass. Flee away. Pennyroyal. Fly with me. Venus’s Oar. Folly. Columbine. Foolishness. Pomegranate. Foppery. Cockscomb. Amaranth. Foresight. Holly. Forgetfulness. Moonwort. Forget me not. Forget-He-Lot. For once may pride befriend me. Tiger Flower. Forsaken. Garden Anemone. Forsaken. Laburnum. Fortitude. Lvpteracanthus Specta- bilis. Frankness. Osier. Fraternal love. Woodbine. Freedom. Water Willows. Freshness’. Damask Bose. Friendship. Acacia. Lvy. Friendship, early. Blue Periwinkle. _ Friendship, true. Oak-leaved Geranium. Friendship, unchang- l n g. Arbor Vitae. Frivolity. London Pride. Frugality. Chiccory. Endive. Gallantry. Sweet William._ Gayety. Butterfly Orchis. Gayety. Yellow Lily. Generosity. Orange Tree. 20 302 THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. Generous and devoted afl'ection. French Honeysuckle. Genius. Plane Tree. Gentility. Corn Cockle. Girlhood. White Rosebud. Give me your good wishes. Sweet Basil. Gladness. Myrrh. Glory.. .Laurel. Glory. ImuQortality. .Daphne. Glorious beauty. Glory Flower. Goodness. Bonus Hervricus. Goodness. Mercury. Good education. Cherry Tree. Good wishes. Sweet Basil. Good-nature. White Mullein. Gossip. Cobcea. Grace. Multiflora Rose. Grace and elegance... Yellow Jasmine. Grandeur. ...Ash Tree. Gratitude. Small White Bell-tlower Grief. Harebell. Grief. Marigold. Happy love. Bridal Rose. Hatred .. Basil. Haughtiness. Purple Larkspur. Haughtiness. Tall Sunflower. Health. Iceland Moss. Hermitage. Milkwort. Hidden worth. Coriander. High-bred. Penstemon Atmreum. Holy wishes. Plumbago Larpenta. Honesty. Honesty. Hope. Flowering Almond. THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 808 Hope. Hope. Hope in adversity.... Hopeless love. Hopeless, not heart¬ less . Horror. Horror. Horror. Hospitality. Humility.. Humility. Humility. Hawthorn. Snowdrop. Spruce Pine. Yellow Tulip. Love Lies Bleeding. Mandrake. Draaonswort. Snalcesfoot. Oak Tree. Broom. Small Bindweed. Field Lilac. I am too happy. Cape -Jasmine. I am your captive. Peach Blossom. I am worthy of you... White Rose. I change but in death. Bay Leaf. I claim at least your esteem. Potentilla. I dare not. Veronica Speciosa. I declare against you. .Belvidere. I declare against you. .Liquorice. I declare war against you. Wild Tansy. I die if neglected. Laurestina. I desire a return of affection. Jonquil. 1 feel my obligations. .Lind. 1 feel your kindness.. .Flax. I have lost all. Mourning Bride. I live for thee. Cedar Leaf. I love. Red Chrysanthemum. I offer you my all. Shepherd’s Purse. 804 THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. I offer you my fortune or I offer you pecu - niary aid . Calceolaria. I share your senti- ments. Double China Aster. I share your senti- ments. Garden Daisy. I shall die to-morrow. Gum Cistus. I shall not survive you .Black Mulberry. I surmount difficulties. Mistletoe. I watch over you. Mountain Ash. I weep for you. Purple Verbena. I will think of it. Sinqle China Aster. I will think of it. Wild Daisy. I wound to heal. Dqlantine ( Sweetbrier). Idleness. Hesembryanthemum. If you love me, you will find it out. Maiden Blush Rost. Ill-nature. Crab Blossom. Ill-natured beauty.... Citron. Imagination. Lv/pine. Immortality. Globe Amaranth. Impatience. Yellow Balsam. Impatient of absence. Corchorus. Impatient resolves... Red Balsam. Imperfection. Henbane. Importunity. Burdock. Inconstancy . .Evening Primrose. Incorruptible. Cedar of Lebanon. Independence. Wild Plum Tree. Independence. White Oak. Iadifference. Everfloiverinq Candytuft. Indifference. Mustard Seed. Indifference. Pigeon Beery. Indifference. Senvy. THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. 805 Indiscretion. Split Reed. Indolence. Mitraria Coccinea. Industry. Red Glover. Industry, Domestic.. .Flax. Ingeniousness. White Pink. Ingenuity. Pencilled Geranium. Ingenuous simplicity. Mouse-eared Chickweed. Ingratitude. Crowfoot. Innocence. Daisy. Insincerity. Foxglove. Insinuation. Great Bindweed. Inspiration. Angelica. Instability. Dahlia. Intellect. Walnut. Intoxication. Vine. Irony. Sardony. Jealousy. French Marigold. Jealousy. Yellow Rose. Jest. Southernwood. Joy. Wood Sorrel. Joys to come. Lesser Celandine. J ustice. Rudbeckia. Justice shall be done to you. Coltsfoot, or Sweet-scented Tussilage. Keep your promise.. ..Petunia. Kindness. Scarlet Geranium. Knight-errantry. Helmet Flower (Monks . hood). Lamentation. Aspen Tree. Lasting beauty. Stock. Lasting pleasures. Everlasting Pea. 306 THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. Let me go. Butterfly Wheel. Levity. Larkspur. Liberty. Live Oak. Life. L/ucern, Lightheartedness. Shamrock. Lightness. Larkspur. Live for me. Arbor Vita. Love. Myrtle. Love. Rose. Love, forsaken... Creeping Willow. Love, returned. .. .Ambrosia. Love is dangerous..... Carolina Rose. Love for all seasons.. .Furze. Lustre... Aconite-leaved, Crowfoot , or Fair Maid of France. Luxury. Chestnut Tree. Magnificent beauty.... Calla MSthiopica. Majesty. Crown Lmperial. Make haste. Dianthus. Malevolence. Lobelia. Marriage... Lvy. Maternal affection. Cinquefoil. Maternal love. Moss. Maternal tenderness ... Wood Sorrel. Matrimony. American Linden. Matronly grace. Cattleya. Mature charms. Cattleya Pineli. May you be happy_ Volkamenia. Meanness.. Coscuta. Meekness. Birch. Melancholy .. Bark Geranium. Melancholy. Bead Leaves. Mental beauty... Clematis, Mental beauty. Kennedia. THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWEES. 307 Message. Iris. Mildness. ..Mallow. Mirth. Saffron Crocus. Misanthropy. Aconite ( Wolfsbane). Misanthropy. Fuller’s Teazle. Modest beauty. Trillium Dictum. Modest genius. Creeping Cereus. Modesty. Violet. Modesty and purity... White Lily. Momentary happiness. Virginian Spiderwort. Mourning. Wee-ping Willow. Music. Bundles of Reeds with their Panicles. My best days are past. Colchicum, or Meadow Saffron. My regrets follow you to the grave. Asphodel. Neatness. Broom. Neglected beauty. Throatwort. Never-ceasing remem¬ brance . Everlasting. Never despair. Watcher by the Wayside. No. Snapdragon. Old age. Tree of Life. Only deserve my love.. Campion Rose. Painful recollections... Flos Adonis. Painting. Auricula. Painting the lily. Daphne Odora. Passion . White Dittany. Paternal error. Cardamine. Patience. Dock. Ox Eye. Patriotism. American Elm. 308 the language of flowers. Patriotism. Nasturtium. Peace. . Olive. Perfected loveliness.. . White Camellia Ja- Perfidy. jponica. . Common Laurel, in flower. Pensive beauty. .Laburnum. Perplexity. . Love in a Mist. Persecution. . Checkered Fritillary Perseverance. .Swamp Magnolia. Persuasion. .Althea Frutex. Persuasion. Pertinacity. .Syrian Mallow. . Glotbur. Pity. . Pine, also Andromeda. Pleasure and pain.... .Dog Rose. Pleasure, lasting. . Fverlastinq Pea. Pleasures of memory. . White Periwinkle. Popular favor. . Cistus, or Rock Rose. Poverty. .Evergreen Clematis. Power. .Imperial Montague. Power. . Cress. Pray for me. . White Verbena. Precaution. . Golden Rod. Prediction. .Prophetic Marigold. Pretension . .Spiked Willow Herb. Pride. .Hundred-leaved Rose. Pride . . Amaryllis. Privation. .Indian Plum. Privation. . Myrobalan. Profit. . Cabbage. Prohibition. . Privet. Prolific. . .Fig Tree. Promptness . .. Ten-iveek Stock. Prosperity. .. Beech Tree. Protection. . .Bearded Crepis. THE LANGUAGE OF FLO WEBS. 809 Prudence . . Mountain Ash. Pure love. .Single Bed Pink. Pure and ardent love. . Double Red Pink. Pure and lovely. .Bed Rosebud. Purity. .Star of Bethlehem. Quarrel. .Broken Corn-straw. Quicksightedness .... .Hawkweed. Ready armed. . Gladioli. Reason. . Goat's Rue. Recantation. . Lotus Leaf. Recall. .Silver-leaved Geranium. Reconciliation. .Filbert. Reconciliation. .Hazel. Refinement. . Gardenia. Refusal. .Striped Carnation. Regard . . Dafodil. Regret. .Purple Verbena. Relief. . Balm of Gilead. Relieve my anxiety.. . Christmas Bose Religious superstition. Aloe. Religious superstition, or faith. . Passion Flower . Religious enthusiasm. . Schinus. Remembrance. . Rosemai'y. Remorse . .Bramble. Remorse. . Raspberry. Rendezvous . . Chnckweed. Reserve. . Maple. Resistance. . Tremella Nestoe. Resolved to be noticed. Siphocampylos. Restoration. .Persicaria. Retaliation. .Scotch Thistle. Return of happiness.. . Lily of the Valley. S10 THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. Revenge.. Birdsfoot Trefoil. Reverie . Flowering Fern. Reward of merit. Bay Wreath. Riches. Corn. Rigor. Lantana. Rivalry. Backet. Rudeness. Clotbur. Rudeness. Xanthium. Rural happiness... Yellow Violet. Rustic beauty.... French Honeysuckle. Rustic oracle. Dandelion. Sadness. Dead Leaves. Safety. Traveller’s Joy. Satire. Prickly Pear. Sculpture. Hoy a. Secret love. Yellow Acacia. Semblance. Spiked Speedwell. Sensitiveness. Mimosa. Sensuality. Spanish Jasmine. Separation. Carolina Jasmine. Severity. Branch of Thorns. Shame. Peony. Sharpness. Barberry Tree. Sickness. Anemone (ZephyrFlower). Silliness. Fool’s Parsley. Simplicity. American Sweetbrier. Sincerity. Carden Chervil. Slighted love ..... Yellow Chrvsanthemum. Snare. Catchfy. Dragon Plant. Solitude... Heath. Sorrow. Yew. Sourness of temper .Barberry. Spell. Circa. THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 811 Spleen. Splendid beauty. Splendor. Sporting. Steadfast piety. Stoicism. Strength. Stupidity. Submission.■ Submission. Success everywhere.. Success crown your wishes. Succor... Such worth is rare... Sunbeaming eyes.... Surprise. Susceptibility ....- Suspicion. Sympathy. Sympathy. .Fumitory. , Amaryllis. . Austurtium. .Fox-tail Grass. . Wild .Geranium. . Box Tree. . Cedar. Fennel. .Horseshoe-leaf Geranium . Grass. .Harebell . .Hemophila. . Coronella. . Juniper. . Achimenes. .Scarlet Lychnis. . Truffle. . Wax Plant. . Champignon. .Balm. . Thrift. Talent. White Pink. Tardiness... Flax-leaned Golden-locks. T as te. . Scarlet Fuscjda. Tears ....••••••••••••■ Pdelenvu/m* Temperance. Azaoea. Temptation. Apple. Thankfulness. Agrimony. The color of my fate... Coral Honeysuckle. The heart’s mystery... Crimson Polyanthus. The perfection of fe- . . male loveliness.. Justicia. The witching soul of music.. • Oats £12 THE LANGUAGE OF FLO WEES. The variety of your conversation de¬ lights me. ClarMa. There is no unalloyed _ g° 0( l. Lojpagenia Rosea. Thoughts. Pansy. Thoughts of absent friends. Zinnia. Thy frown will kill me. Currant. Thy smile I aspire to.. Daily Rose. Ties. Tendrils of Cli/nibing . . Plants. Timidity. Amaryllis. Timidity. Marvel of Peru. Time ■ . . White Poplar. Tranquillity. Mud/wort. Tranquillity. Stonecrojo. Tranquillize my anx¬ iety. . Christmas Rose. Transient beauty. Night-blooming Cereus. Transient impressions. Withered White Rose. Transport of joy. Cape Pasmine. Treachery. Bilberry. True love.... ; . Forget-me-not. True friendship. Oak-leaved Geranium. Truth. Bittersweet Nightshade. Truth.•- White Chrysanthermim. Unanimity . Phlox. Unbelief. Judas Tree. Unceasing remem¬ brance. American Cudweed. Unchanging friend¬ ship. Arbor Vitce. Unconscious beauty.. .Burgundy Rose. THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 313 Unexpected meeting ..Lemon Geranium. Unfortunate attach- ment. . Mourning Bride. Unfortunate love. . Scabious. Union. . Whole Straw. Unity. Unite against a com¬ mon foe. . White and Red Rose to- gether. .Scarlet Verbena. Unpatronized merit.. . Red Primrose. Uprightness. . Imbricata. Uselessness. Meadowsweet. Utility. . Grass. Variety. . China Aster. Variety. .Mundi Rose. Vice. .Darnel (Ray Grass'). Victory. . Palm. Virtue. .Mint. Virtue, domestic. . Sage. Volubility. . Abecedary. Voraciousness. . Lupine. . African Marigold. Vulgar minds. War. . Yorlc and Lancaster Rose, War. . Achillea Millefolia. Warlike trophy. .Indidh Cress. Warmth of feeling.... .Peppermint. Watchfulness. .Dame Violet. Weakness. .Moschatel. Weakness. . Musk Plant. Welcome, fair stranger. Westeria. Welcome to a stranger .American Starwort. Widowhood... . Sweet Scabious. 814 THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWEES. Will you accompany me to the East?. Stephanotis. Will you dance with met. Viscaria Oculata. Win me and wear mo... Lady's Slipper. Winning grace. Cowslip. Winter age. Guelder Rose. Wisdom. Blue Salvia. Wit. Meaaow Lychnis. Wit ill-timed. Wild Sorrel. Witchcraft. Enchanters Nightshade. Worth beyond beauty .Sweet Elysium. Worth 'sustained by judicious and ten¬ der affection. Pink Convolvulus. Worldliness, self- seeking . Clianthus. Worthy of all praise.. .Fennel. You are cold. Hortensia. You are my divinity.. .American Cowslip. You are perfect. Pine Apple. You are radiant with charms. Ranv/nculus. You are rich in at¬ traction . Garden Ranunculus. You are the queen of coquettes. Queen’s Rocket. You are charming. Leschenaultia Splendens. You have no claims.. .Pasque Flower. Y ou have many lovers. Chorozema Varium. You please all. Branch of Currants. You are too bold. Diplademia Crassinoda. You will be my death. Hemlock. THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 818 Your charms are en¬ graven on my heart. Spindle Tree. Your looks freeze me. .Ice Plant. Your presence softens my pain. Milhvetch. Your purity equals your loveliness. Orange Blossoms. Your qualities, like your charms, are unequalled. Peach. Your qualities surpass your charms. Mignonette. Your temper is too hasty. GrammanthesChloraflora. Youthful innocence... White Lilac. Youthful love. Red Catchfly. Your whims are un¬ bearable. Monarda Anyplexicaulis. Zealousness. Elder. Zest... Lemon. 816 THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. MODIFICATIONS OF THE FLOWER LANGUAGE. If a flower be given reversed , its original sig¬ nification is understood to be contradicted, and the opposite meaning to be implied. A rosebud divested of its thorns, but retaining its leaves, conveys the sentiment, “I fear no longer; I hope;” thorns signifying tears, and leaves hopes. Stripped of leaves and thorns, the bud signi¬ fies, “ There is nothing to hope or fear.” The expression of flowers is also varied by changing their positions. Place a marigold on the head, and it signifies “Mental anguish;” on the bosom, “Indifference.” When a flower is given, the pronoun 4 is un¬ derstood by bending it to the right hand; thou, by inclining it to the left. “Yes” is implied by touching the flower given with the lips. “No,” by pinching off a petal, and casting it away. “I am,” is expressed by a laurel-leaf twisted round the bouquet. “ I have,” by an ivy-leaf folded together. “ I offer you,” by a leaf of the Virginian Creeper. THE LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. 817 BOUQUETS AS EXAMPLES. SPRING. 1 . May maternal love protect your early youth in innoconce and joy! Flowers needed. Moss. Maternal Love. Bearded Crepis. Protect. Primroses. Early youth. Daisy. Innocence. Wood Sorrel. Joy. SUMMER. % 2 . Tour humility and amiability have won mj love. Flowers needed. Broom ..... Humility. White Jasmine. Amiability. Myrtle. Love. 3. Let the bonds of marriage unite us. Flowers needed. Blue Convolvulus. Bonds. 818 THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. Ivy . Marriage. A few whole straws... Unite us. 4. A Farewell. Farewell! give me your good wishes. Forget me not. Flowers needed. Sprig of Spruce Fir. ..Farewell. Sweet Basil. G-ive me your good wishes. Forget-Me-Not. Forget me not. 5. Tour patriotism, courage, and fidelity merit everlasting remembrance. Flowers needed. Nasturtium. Patriotism. Oak Leaves. Courage. Heliotrope. Fidelity. Everlasting, or Im¬ mortelles . Everlasting remembrance. 6 . A Red Rose. I love you. 7. An Impertinence. Your insincerity and avarice make me hate you. Flower 's needed. Cherry Blossom, or Foxglove. Insincerity. THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 319 Scarlet Auricula Turk’s Cap. 8. A Warning. Beware of deceit. Danger is near. Depart. Floivers needed. Oleander. White Flytrap.. Rhododendron.. Sweet Pea. 9. A Rebuke. Tour frivolity and malevolence will cause you to be forsaken by all. Flowers needed. London Pride... Lobelia. Laburnum. AUTUMNAL. 10. Be assured of my sympathy. May you find consolation! Flowers needed. Thrift. pathy. Red Poppy. 820 THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWEB9, WINTER. 11 . By foresight you will surmount your dif¬ ficulties. Flowers needed. Holly. Foresight. Mistletoe. You will surmount ycntr difficulties