UC-NRLF $B 3^fi SEE UNIVERSfllV CALi-DRNlifi EMILY L. TURNER THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA GIFT OF Emily L. Turner @ -.=z^ - - @ SOME OF DAYTON & WENTWOKTH'S LIFE AMONG THE FLOWERS. BY LAUKA G-BEENWOOD. This whole work forms a delightful Gift Book for any and all seasons of the year, particularly when God's choice and beautiful ornaments adorn our land, and fill the air with their fragrance. The writers of our own country are well represented, and in the lan- guage of another, "whoever 'Laura Greenwood ' may be, she has the taste and skill of an accomplished editor." As such, " we cheerfully recommend the ' Life among the Flowers ' to every man, woman, and child who has a taste for the good and beau- tiful." The work is printed in bold, clear type, on the first quality of paper, and bound in a superior manner. 12mo., 272 pages. DAYTON & WENT WORTH, Publishers, 86 Washington Street^ Boston. HAPPY HOURS AT HAZEL NOOK. BY HARRIET FARLEY, This work contains twelve exquisite tales, related by a family circle, containing wisdom for the old, amusement for the young, and thoughts for the middle-aged. Embellished with fourteen superb" illustrations by the best artists in America ; and to make this the gift book of the sea- son, we have colored the engravings in the beautiful and natural style introduced with such unprecedented success in our historical works. Bound in elegant muslin, 12mo., full gilt or plain. DAYTON & WENTWORTH, Publishers, 86 Washington Street, Boston. LOVE EACH OTHER, OR STRIVE TO BE GOOD. STORIES DESIGNED TO AOVAINCE THE YOUNG IN VIRTUE & MORAilTV, BY MRS. lilVINGSTON. This book, as its title imports, is designed for the instruction of Youth, and we cannot recommend a more welcome present than this for the young folks. The book is extensively illustrated, and elegantly bound. Price only 25 cents. DAYTON & WENTWORTH, Publishers, 86 Washington Street, Boston. Co) @ @ J ANGEL WHISPERS, OR THE ECHO OF SPIRIT VOICES. BY BEV. D. C. EDDY. ** The public have long felt the need of some specific book, which treats upon specific cases of affliction, to put into the hands of those whose friends have been taken from them by death. The present work is therefore gathered from a number of addresses made on funeral occa- sions, taking away the pulpit style, and interspersing them with appeals to the heart and conscience of the reader." DAYTON & WENTWORTH, Publisher3, 86 Washington Street, Boston. THE CHRISTIAN COUNSELLOR, OR JEWELS FOR THE HOUSEHOLD. This is a work of condensed thought and striking anecdote a work of sound maxims and truthful apothegms. It will impress on the mind a thousand valuable suggestions, and teach your children a thousand lessons of truth. Such a book is a casket of Jewels for your household. The work contains 448 octavo pages, handsomely illustrated with 40 appropriate engravings, prinjted with new type on fine paper. Agents can have constant employment by circulating this important work. DAYTON & WENTWORTH, Publishers, 86 Washington Street, Boston. FLEETWOOD'S LIFE OP OUR LORD AND SAVIOR JESUS CHRIST. Containing a full and accurate History from his taking upon himself our Nature to his Crucifixion, Resurrectio^i, aiid Ascension, together with the Lives, Tratuactlons, a7id Sufferings of his Holy Evangelists, Apos- tles, and other primitive Martyrs. To which is added a complete History of the Jeics. The work is in large royal octavo form, superbly bound in extra gilt imitation Turkey Red Morocco binding, containing 660 pages, with nu- merous Steel Engravings, and a frontispiece of the Infant Jesus disput- ing with the doctors. This work is sold only by subscription, for which exclusive right of ten-itory in all cases will be given. Five hundred agents wanted. 1^" Please address the Publishers, DAYTON & WENTWORTH, 86 Washington Street, Boston. (o) =@ = DAUGHTERS OF THE CROSS, OR WOMAN'S MISSION. BY DANIEL C. EDDY. The object of this work is to give a series of brief memoirs of the lives of the most prominent females in the Christian canse, who deserve more honor than the fallen warrior or* the titled senator such as Harriet Newell, Ann H. Judson, Elizabeth Hervey, Harriet B. Stewart, Sarah L. Smith, Eleanor Macomber, Sarah D. Comstock, Henrietta Shuck, Sarah B. Judson, Annie P. James, Mary E. Van Lennep. DAYTON & WENT WORTH, Publishers, 86 Washington Street, Boston. THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. BY DANIEL C. EDDY. This work has passed through fifty editions, and has had a very ex- tensive sale. It has received universal commendation from the press, as may be seen by the following notices : " Tlie writer lias elevated views of life and duty, pood taste, and that stir and energy of style which takes hold of the sympathies of young men." JVew York Evangelist, " The work reflects credit on its author, and is rightly named." Watchman and Rejlector. "The style of the book is vigorous, and its lessons well studied." Zion's Herald. " An earnest word from an earnest man." Concord Democrat. " The author is one who has well read the human heart, who is well versed in the temptations of the young, and who has a lively sympathy for the class whom he seeks to benefit." Independent. DAYTON & WENTWORTH, Publishers, 86 Washingt07i Street, Boston. THE OASIS, OR GOLDEN LEAVES OF FRIENDSHIP. BY N. L. FERaUSON. This book commends itself to the consideration of those who do them- selves the pleasure of falling in with the customs and usages of the times in exchanging presentations, felicitations, and congratulations. This work is well printed in large, bold, clear type, on first quality paper, and bound in rich muslin, full gilt, at an exceedingly low price. 12mo., 272 pages. DAYTON & WENTWORTH, Publishers, 86 Washington Street, Boston. @ THE CLOVEN FOOT. This is a book of 400 pages, designed to expose the Roman Catholic conspiracy against the government of the United States, By a Protes- tant Clergyman. The talent and research displayed on every page of this work, together with the Startling Facts which it relates, will place it far in advance of the many hasty productions with which the press has teemed for the last six months. 1000 Native American Agents wanted to sell this work. Address DAYTON & WENTWORTH, Publishers, 86 Washington Street, Boston. @ HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY IN THE UNITED STATES. By the Author of " The Keptiblic of the IJnited States," &e. This important work is now in press, the first volume of which will be issued early in the year of 1856. Letter in respect to the character and objects of this work have been received from tlie late Judge Woodlmry, lion. Goor^e M. Dallas, Hon. James Buchanan, Hon. William L. Marcy, Hon. Robert J. VVaikcr, Hon. Panuie! Houston, Hon. Isaac Toticcy, Hon. JeliVr^on D.tvi.-:, Hon. Tliomas H. Ss-yinnur, Hon. R. J. Inger- soM, Hon. Edinud 13urke, Hon. 15. F. Hallott, Hon. Lewis (;as>, Hon. Thomas W. Dorr, etc. DAYTON & WENTWORTH, Publishers, 86 Washington Street, Boston^ A NEVr PICTOEIAL HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES. BY JOHN FROST. We hesitate not to say that this is the best Pictorial History of the United States to be found in the Ande world. This work is copiously illustrated with over 600 engravings from origi- nal designs, containing over 1000 pages, printed on the first quality of paper, with bold, clear type, and bound in leather binding, with spring back and heavy sides, in the most durable manner. The book should be in the hands of every family in the United States, especially of our adopted citizens, from the shores of the Pacific, on the West, to that of the extreme Atlantic, on the East. No man or woman who wishes to become acquainted with our institutions, Character, Rise, Progress, and Commerce of our adopted country, will fail to procure a copy of this work of intrinsic merit. Five hundred active men wanted to circulate this work through the country. Address the Publishers, DAYTON & WENTWORTH, 86 Washington Street, Boston. THE NEW WORLD. This magnificent work is sold only by agents, and wholly by subscrip- tion. One thousand enterprising men are wanted by the Publishers to circulate it. " [t is truly nstonishingr the extent and perfection to which the art of book making has been carried of late. The greatest book thai has yet been published is now issued by our friends Dayton & Wentworth, and tliey truly deserve the name of public benefactors, for their enterprise and skill in producing a triumph of American art and genius. We think tliit* truly great work destined to outlive all its feebler contemporaries in the field of literature, and iro down to posterity stamped with the genius of our age. The illustrations are in reality gorgeous and superb paintings.''^ Oazelie. Address DAYTON & WENTWORTH, Publishers, 86 Wu^hington Street, Boston. @ =- ^ - w ," '^ Sclilesirg^er Piirsi 0.0 F'l /R.R^J@lf^ iFl^Q)W[E^S . THE llttral Wteat|; LIFE AMONG THE FLOWERS, * EDITED BY LAURA GREENWOOD. *' I have made a nosegay of culled flowers, and have brought nothing of my own but the thread that ties them." Reminiscences of Genius. @= BOSTON: DAYTON AND WENTWORTH, 86 WASHINGTON STREET. 1855. ^@ @ @ EIntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by NATHANIEL L. DAYTON, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. GIFT 8TEHE0TTFSD AT THX BOSTON STSBEOTTrB F O tT K D B T . @ @ - ' @ INTRODUCTION In adding one to the many works -on flowers, that have, from time to time, been offered to the public, we make no apology. We believe that each, in its turn, has ministered to the widely- spread and still increasing taste for those most beautiful creations of the Divine Goodness, which every where surround us, with such forcible, though voiceless, appeals to our notice and love. We trust that this may be the gentle mission of our unpretending work. The selections of prose, we think, may be an acceptable addition to many readers, while they are not wholly inappropriate, as they inculcate the practice of a portion of the floral sentiments^ and illustrate their beauty when carried into the every-day duties of real life. @ ( o) 476 4 INTRODUCTION. "We have endeavored to make the work which we present to you unexceptionable in taste ^nd morals. We cannot claim for it the merit of entire origi- nality, either in language or dress ; but we believe that, to those who accept its society to diversify the monotony of a long winter evening to be- guile the languid hours of a summer day or to cheer the tedious convalescence of illness its counsels and companionship will be found most soothing and sweet. L. G. :::=== . ' @ CONTENTS. POETRY. Flowers. Interpretation. Page Acacia, Rose Elegance 11 Alyssum, Sweet "Worth beyond Beauty 12 Almond, Flowering Hope 13 Aloe Grief 14 Amaranth Immortality 15 Anemone Forsaken 16 Arbor VitjE Unchanging Affection 17 Aspen Tree Excessive Sensibility 18 Auricula, Scarlet Pride 19 Bachelor's Button Celibacy 23 Balm Sympathy 24 Balsomine Impatience 25 Basil Hatred of the other Sex 26 Bay Wreath Glory 27 Bay Leaf. I change but in dying 28 Bell Flower Constancy 29 Bayberry Sourness, or Sharpness 30 Bindweed Humility 31 Box Stoicism..... 32 Bramble Weariness 33 Buttercup Kingcup Riches 43 @: CONTENTS. Catclifly Artifice, or a Snare 44 Camomile Energy in Adversity 45 Carnation Disdain 46 Cedar Tree Strength 47 Cherry Blossom Spiritual Beauty 48 Clematis Mental Beauty 49 Cinquefoil The Dead 50 Cowslip Native Grace 51 Coreopsis Always cheerful 52 Crocus I am his 53 Crown Imperial Aristocracy 54 Cypress Disappointed Hopes 55 Daisy Innocence 66 Dandelion Coquetry 67 Eglantine, or Sweetbrier Poetry 68 Everlasting Always remembered 69 Evergreen Poverty and "Worth 70 Fir Time 71 Flax Domestic Industry 72 Flower of an Hour Delicate Beauty 73 Flower-de-Luce I am bxuming with Love 74 Flowering Reed Confidence in Heaven 75 Forget-Me-Not True Love 76 Foxglove Ambition 77 Geranium Gentility 94 Geranium, Dark ^ Despondency 95 Geranium, Rose Preference 96 Geranium, Scarlet Consolation 97 Geranium, Silver-leafed Recall 98 @= . CONTENTS. Hawthorn Hope 103 Hellebore Caliimny 104 Heliotrope Devotion 105 Hibiscus Short-lived Beauty 106 Honeysuckle Fidelity 107 Honeysuckle, Wild Inconstancy 108 Hydrangea Heartlessness 109 Ice Plant Frigidity 115 Ivy Friendship 116 Jasmine Amiability 117 Japonica Excellence 118 Jonquil Is my Affection returned 119 Laburnum Pensiveness 128 Ladies' Delight Forget me not 129 Ladies' Slipper Capriciousness 130 Larkspur Fickleness 131 Laurel Fame 132 Lavender Acknowledgment 133 Lilac First Emotions of Love 134 Lily of the Valley Unnoticed Affection 135 Lily, White Purity and Modesty 136 Locust Affection beyond the Grave 137 Lotus Estrangement 138 Love in a Mist Perplexity 139 Love Lies Bleeding Hopeless, not Heartless 140 Mignonette Moral Worth 151 Mimosa Sensitiveness 152 Mistletoe Not discouraged 153 Moss Maternal Affection 154 Mulberry Tree Wisdom j.... 155 Myrtle Love in Absence 156 @ 8 CONTENTS. Narcissus Egotism, or Self-love 157 Nasturtium Patriotism 158 Nightshade Dark Thoughts 159 Oleander "Warning, or Beware 164 Olive Peace 165 Orange Blossom Woman's Worth 166 Oxeye Patience 167 Pea, Everlasting Wilt thou go 177 Pea, Sweet Departxu-e 178 Periwinkle Early Friendship 179 Petunia Elegance without Pride 180 Phlox Our Souls are united 181 Pink, China Aversion 182 Pink, Red Woman's Love 183 Pink, White Fair and fascinating 184 Poppy, Red. Evanescence 185 Poppy, White Oblivion in Sleep 186 Primrose Modest Worth 187 Primrose, Evening Inconstancy 188 Rose, Burgundy Simplicity 193 Rose, Bridal Happy Love 194 Rose, Carolina Love is dangerous 195 Rose, Multiflora Grace 196 Rose, Versicolor Mirthfulness 197 Rose, Musk Charming 198 Rose, Moss Superior Merit 199 Rosebud, Moss Confession of Love 200 Rosebud, White Too young to love...... 201 Rose, Yellow We will be Strangers 202 Rosemary Affectionate Remembrance 203 Saffron Mamage 218 @ - @ @ @ CONTENTS. 9 Snapdragon Dazzling, but dangerous 219 Snowdrop Hope in Sorrow 220 Snowball Thoughts of Heaven 221 Star of Bethlehem Reconciliation 222 Sweet William Hollo^\Tiess, or Treachery 233 Syringa Memory 234 Tansy Courage 235 Thistle Never forget 236 Tulip, Red Declaration of Love 237 TuHp Beautiful Eyes 238 Venus's Looking Glass Flattery, or Vanity 243 Violet, Blue Faithfulness 244 Violet, ^Vhite Modesty 245 Water Lily Eloquence 246 Wall Flower Fidelity in Misfortune 247 Walnut, Black Intellect 256 Weeping Willow Forsaken Lover 257 Woodbine Fraternal Love 258 Yarrow Cure for the Heartache Yew Sorrow 10 CONTENTS. PROSE. Page Musings on Flowers 20 The Poetry of Flowers 34 Early Times t 56 The Lady Pilgrim 78 Life is sweet 99 A New Year's Colloquy with Time 110 The Broken Heart 120 My Fortune's made 141 Live not to yourself 160 The Listener 168 Influence of an Elder Sister 189 The Coral Pving 204 My Cousin 223 The Charities that sweeten Life 239 The Evening before Marriage 248 The Honeymoon * 262 = @ - @ LIFE AMONG THE FLOWERS. ACACIA, ROSE. Robinia Hispida. Language ELEGANCE. It is worth much, in this dull world of strife And foolish vanity, to meet a heart Serene and beautiful like thine ! Thou, with a lofty purpose in thy breast, Retain'st thy elevation o'er the herd No less by that calm majesty of soul Which shrinks from adulation, than by gifts Of lofty intellect and outward grace. Thy form hath elegance that indicates The beautiful refinement of thy thoughts ; And there is dignity in thy firm step That speaks a soul superior to the thrall Of petty vanity and low-born pride. ==@ @ @ 12 WORTH BEYOND BEAUTY. ALYSSUM, SWEET. Alyssum Maritimum. Language WORTH BEYOND BEAUTY. She who thinks a noble heart Better than a noble mien, Honors virtue more than art, Though 'tis less in fashion seen, Whatsoe'er her fortune be, She's the bride the wife for me. She who deems that inward grace Far surpasses outward show, She who values less the face Than the charms the soul can throw, Whatsoe'er her fortune be. She's the bride the wife for me. She who knows the heart requires Something more than lips of dew, That when love's brief rose expires, Love itself dies with it too, Whatsoe'er her fortune be, She's the bride the wife for me. Chaeles Swaiit. @ @ @ HOPE. 13 ALMOND. FLOTORING. Amygddus, Language HOPE. The hope, in dreams of a happier hour, That ah'ghts on misery's brow, Springs out of the silvery almond flower That blooms on a leafless bough. MOOBB. Fear not, beloved ! though clouds may lower, Whilst rainbow visions melt away, Faith's holy star has still a power That may the deepest midnight sway. Fear not ! I take a prophet's tone : Our love can neither wane nor set ; My heart grows strong in trust : mine own, We shall be happy yet. What though long, anxious years have passed Since this true heart was vowed to thine. There comes, for us, a light at last. Whose beam upon our path shall shine. We who have loved 'midst doubts and fears. Yet never with one hour's regret. There comes a joy to gild our tears : We shall be happy yet ! Mbs. James Gbat Come, then, O care ! grief ! O woe ! O troubles ! mighty in your kind ; X have a balm ye ne'er can know A hopeful mind. F. Vajtb. (5) @- 14 GRIEF. ALOE. Aloe. Languagk GRIEF. " Azim is dead I " O grief beyond all other griefs, when fate . First leaves the young heart lone and desolate In the wide world, without that only tie For which it loved to live, or feared to die Lorn as the hung-up lute, that ne'er hath spoken. Since the sad day its master-chord was broken ! MOOBE'S IiALLA Kookh. Thou art lost to me forever I have lost thee, Isadore. Thy head will never rest upon my loyal bosom more. Thy tender eyes will never more gaze fondly into mine. Nor thine arms around me lovingly and trustingly intwine. Thou art dead and gone, my loving wife ; thy heart is still and cold ; And I at one stride have become most comfortless and old : Of our whole world of love and song, thou wast the only light A star, whose setting left behind, ah me ! how dark a night ! Thou art lost to me forever, Isadore. Albeet Pike. I need not say how, one by one. Love's flowers have dropped from off love's chain ; Enough to say that they are gone. And that tjiey cannot bloom again. Miss Laitdoit. ^ ^ IMMORTALITY. 15 AMARANTH. Amaranthus. I Language IMMORTALITY. With solemn adoration down they cast Their 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 tree of life. MlLTOIT. O, listen, man ! A voice within us speaks that startling word " Man, thou shalt never die ! " Celestial voices Hymn it unto our souls ; according harps. By angel fingers touched, when the mild stars Of morning sang together, sound forth still The song of one great immortality. Dana. Love, which proclaims thee human, bids thee know A truth more lofty in thy lowliest hour Than shallow glory taught to human power " What's human is immortal ! " @~- =@ @ - 16 FORSAKEN. ANEMONE. Anemmie, Language FORSAKEN. . Alas ! the love of women ! it is known To be a lovely and a fearful thing ; For all of theirs upon that die is thrown, And if 'tis lost, life has no more to bring To them but mockeries of the past alone. Byrox. I did love once, Loved as youth, woman, genius loves ; though now My heart is chilled, and seared, and taught to wear That falsest of false things a mask of smiles. Miss LANDOIf. They parted as all lovers part She with her wronged and breaking heart ; But he, rejoicing to be free, Bounds like a captive from his chain, And wilfully believing she Hath found her liberty again ; Or if dark thoughts will cross his mind. They are but clouds before the wind. Miss Landon. Gro, deceiver, go ! Some day, perhaps, thou'lt waken From pleasure's dream to know The grief of hearts forsaken ! MOOEE. UNCHANGING AFFECTION. 17 ARBOR VIM. Thuja, Language UNCHANGING AFFECTION. Believe me, if all those endearing young charms, Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, Were to change by to-morrow, and melt in my arms, Like fairy gifts fading away, Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art, Let thy loveliness fade as it will, And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart Would intwine itself verdantly still ! It is not while beauty and youth are thine own, And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear, That the fervor and faith of a soul can be known. To which time will but make thee more dear. 0, the heart which has truly loved never forgets. But as truly loves on to the close As the sunflower turns to her god, when she sets. The same look which she turned when he rose. MOOEB. Within her heart was his image. Clothed in the beauty of love and youth, as last She beheld him. Only more beautiful made by his deathlike Silence and absence. LONOFEllOW'S EVANGELIITE. 4 @ @i 18 EXCESSIVE SENSIBILITY. ASPEN TREE. Populus Tremulus. Language EXCESSIVE SENSIBILITY. Why tremble so, broad aspen tree ? Why shake thy leaves, ne'er ceasing ? At rest thou never seem'st to be, For when the air is still and clear, Or when the nipping gale, increasing, Shades from thy boughs soft twilight's tear, Thou tremblest still, broad aspen tree, And never tranquil seem'st to be. Anow. Yet what is wit, and what the poet's art ? Can genius shield the vulnerable heart ? Ah, no ! Where bright imagination reigns. The fine-wrought spirit feels acuter pains ; Where glow exalted sense, and taste refined. There keener anguish rankles in the mind ; There feeling is diffused through every part, Thrills in each nerve, and lives in all the heart ; And those whose generous souls each tear would keep From other's eyes are born themselves to weep. * HANNAn More. Though time thy bloom is stealing. There's still beyond his art The wild-flower wreath of feeling, The sunbeam of the heart. Halleck. @ @ PRIDE. 19 AURICULA, SCARLET. Primula Auricula. Language PRIDE. From her lone path she never turns aside, Though passionate worshippers before her fall ; Like some pure planet, in her lonely pride, She seems to soar and beam above them all. Mks. Welby. It is not well amid thy race to move. And shut thy heart to sympathy and love ; It is not well to scorn inferior minds, And pass them by as though they were but hinds. Pride may become thee, as the veil a nun ; But, ah ! they love thee not whom thou dost shun ; And days may come to thee when human love Thou wilt desire all earthly things above ; And thou wilt mourn that in thy days of pride Thou didst not win some true hearts to thy side ; Wilt mourn that, now thy rank and wealth have flown, Thou'rt left to suffer and to die alone ! Akoit. I'll offer and I'll suffer no abuse, Because I'm proud : pride is of mighty use ; The affectation of a pompous name Has oft set wits and heroes in a flame : Volumes and buildings, and dominions wide, Are oft the noble monuments of pride. Cbown's Caligula. J <) 20 MUSINGS ON FLOWERS. MUSINGS ON FLOWERS. Flowers, of all created things the most inno- cently simple, and most superbly complex ; play- things for childhood, ornaments of the grave, and companions of the cold corpse ! flowers, beloved by the wandering idiot, and studied by the deep thinking man of science ! flowers, that, of perish- ing things, are the most heavenly! flowers, that unceasingly expand to heaven their grateful, and to man their cheerful, looks ; partners of human joy ; soothers of human sorrow ; fit emblems of the victor's triumphs, of the young bride's blushes ; welcome to the crowded halls, and graceful upon solitary graves I flow^ers are in the volume of nature what the expression " God is love " is in the volume of the revelation. What a desolate place would be a world w^ithout a flower ! It w^ould be a face without a smile a feast without a wel- come. Are not flowers the stars of the earth, and are not our stars the flowers of heaven ? One cannot look closely at the structure of a flower without loving it. They are emblems and mani- festations of God's love to the creation, and ihey are the means and ministrations of man's love to his fellow-creatures ; for they first awaken in his mind a sense of the beautiful and good. Their growth is always over their grave; the spot of their bloom is so quickly the sepulchre of their beauty ! @ ^@ MUSINGS ON FLOWERS. 21 The lady who has been absent during the fare- well month of summer may return to the scene of her laughs and joys, and find the street, the house, the chamber, the same ; the circle of friends unbroken by a death or a sorrow ; no trace, in the teeming life around her, of time's changes. But that evidence will meet the eye in the flower garden. The w^eeds that have thick- ened in the alley have choked the choicest flower. The moss tufts have withered with the heat of August. The lily waves its graceful leaf faintly over its fellows. The dahlia, which her " sweet and cunning hand " had reared, and cherished with affection, has fallen beneath the deep shades of the growing vine that has frowned away its life and its radiant colors. The place is more changed than any other. It is beautiful but for its treasured memories still beautiful, though clothed in the drooping fall robes of the year ; but clear it is, that " Time's effacing fingers Have swept the lines where beauty lingers." Here^ then, where delicate taste directed the cul- ture in May ; where soft hands caressed the June rosebud, and brushed away the early dew ; a sooth- ing picture of melancholy rises in the view. The maiden laugh is suppressed. But why should it be ? What though " The shadows of departed hours Hang dim upon her early flowers ! " ^ 22 MUSINGS ON FLOWERS. They^ in their day, smiled and blossomed ; and so should she, who represents the delicacy of the flowers, the modesty of its unfolding petals, its bloom, and its purity. Flowers contain the language and sentiments of the heart, thus : The fair lily is an image of holy innocence ; the purple rose a figure of unfelt love ; faith is represented to us in the blue passion flower ; hope beams forth from the evergreen ; peace from the olive branch ; immortality from immortelle ; the cares of life are represented by the rosemary ; the victory of the spirit by the palm ; modesty by the blue, fragrant violet ; com- passion by the ivy ; tenderness by the myrtle ; af- fectionate reminiscence by the forget-me-not ; natural honesty and fidelity by the oak leaf; un- assumingness by the corn flower; and the auric- ula, " how friendly they look upon us with their childlike eyes ! " Even the dispositions of the hu- man soul are expressed by flowers. Thus silent grief is portrayed by the weeping willow ; sadness by the angelica ; shuddering by the aspen ; mel- ancholy by the cypress ; desire of meeting again by the starwort ; the night rocket is a figure of life, as it stands on the frontier between light and darkness. Thus Nature, by these flowers, seems to betoken her loving sympathy with us ; and whom hath she not often more consoled than heartless and voiceless men are able to do ? Anox. ^- (o) = @ CELIBACY. 23 BACHELOR'S BUTTON. Lychnis Dwecia. Language CELIBACY. Alone, alone, all, all alone ! Alone on a wide, wide sea ! A bachelor May thrive by observation on a little ; A single life's no burden ; but to draw In yokes is chargeable, and will require A double maintenance. JOHK FOKD. What ! I love ! I sue ! I seek a wife ! A woman that is like a German clock, Still a-repairing ; ever out of frame, And never going aright, being a watch. But being watched that it may still go right. Shasspbabs. How uneasy is his life Who is troubled with a wife ! Be she ne'er so fair or comely, Be she foul or be she homely, Be she blithe or melancholy, Have she wit or have she folly, Be she prudent, be she squandering. Be she staid or be she wandering. Yet uneasy is his life Who is married to a wife. "* - 24 SYMPATHY. BALM. Melissa. Language SYMPATHY. Hast tliou one heart that loves thee, In this dark world of care, Whose gentle smile approves thee ? Yield not to dark despair ! One rose, whose fragrant blossom Blooms but for thee alone One fond, confiding bosom, Whose thoughts are all thine own ? One tuneful voice to cheer thee. When sorrow has distressed One breast when thou art weary, Whereon thy head to rest ? Till that sweet rose is faded. And cold that heart so warm. Till clouds thy star have shaded, Heed not the passing storm. Till the kind voice that blessed thee All mute in death doth lie. And the fount that oft refreshed thee To thee is ever dry, Thou hast one tie to bind thee To this dark world of care ; ^Then let no sorrow blind thee Yield not to dark despair. ^ IMPATIENCE. 25 BALSOMINE. Impatiens. Language IMPATIENCE. I CANNOT, will not longer brook ' Thy cold delay, thy prudent look. Dost love me ? Share at once my fate, Be it bright or desolate ! I will abide no half-way love. Nor wait for prudence ere I move : One more repulse, and I depart ! Come, now or never, to my heart. AXOIT. Life of my life, at once my fate decree ; I wait my death, or more than life, from thee ! I have no arts nor powers thy soul to move, But doting constancy and boundless love ; This is my all : had I the world to give, Thine were its throne ; now bid me die or live. Ckabde. 0, how impatience gains upon the soul. When the long-promised hour of joy draws near ! How slow the tardy moments seem to roll ! Mrs. Tigiie. @ ~ = 26 HATRED OF THE OTHER SEX. BASIL. Ocinum BasHicum. Language HATRED OF THE OTHER SEX. * Clara was told, if past a certain age, Her lovely spirit left this mortal stage ; - . (An adage known full well ;) She must, as all yclept old maidens must, Below this ball of mud, and rocks, and dust, Lead frightful apes in hell ! She said, if such must be her future lot. Resigned, she would not mourn a single jot ; She'd rather lead a thousand down below, Than one should lead her now / J. w. H. Marry ! no, faith ; husbands are like lots in The lottery you may draw forty blanks, Before you find one that has any prize In him ; a husband generally is a Careless, domineering thing, that grows like Coral ; which as long as it is under water Is soft and tender ; but as soon As it has got its branch above the waves Is presently hard, stiff, not to be bowed. Mabston. A wife ! O fetters To man's blessed liberty ! all this world 's a prison. Heaven the high wall about it, sin the jailer ; But th' iron shackles, weighing down our heels, Are only women. (2)= GLORY. ^ 27 BAY WREATH. Laurus Carolinensis. Language GLORY. What is glory ? What is fame ? The echo of a long-lost name ; A breath, an idle hour's brief talk ; The shadow of an arrant nought ; A flower that blossoms for a day, Dying next morrow ; A stream that hurries on its way, Singing of sorrow. MOTHEKWELL. And glory long has made the sages smile ; 'Tis something, nothing, words, illusion, wind Depending more upon the historian's style Than on the name a person leaves behind. Byeon. Real glory Springs from the silent conquest of ourselves ; And without that the conqueror is nouglit But the first slave. Fame ! Fame ! thou canst not be the stay Unto the drooping reed, The cool, fresh fountain, in the day Of the soul's feverish need : Where must the lone one turn or flee ? Not unto thee, O, not to thee ! Mrs. Hemans. ^ @ = 28 I CHANGE BUT IN DYING. BAY LEAF. Laurus, Language I CHANGE BUT IN DYING. In bower and garden rich and rare There's many a cherished flower, JVhose beauty fades, whose fragrance dies Within the flitting hour. Not so the simple forest leaf. Unprized, unnoticed, lying : The same through all its little life, It changes but in dying. Be such, and only such, my friends ; Once mine, and mine forever ; And here's a hand to clasp in theirs, That shall desert them never. And thou be such, my gentle love. Time, chance, the world defying ; And take 'tis all I have a heart That changes but in dying. G. W. DOANK. Farewell ! there's but one pang in death. One only leaving thee ! @ - ^ CONSTANCY. : 29 BELL FLOWER. Campanula. Language CONSTANCY. Say, shall I love the fading beauty less, Whose spring-tide radiance has been wholly mine ? No come what will, thy steadfast truth I'll bless ; In youth, in age, thine own forever thine. A. A. Watts. Then come the wild weather, come sleet, or come snow. We will stand by each other however it blow. Oppression, and sickness, and sorrow, and pain Shall be to our true love as links to the chain. LOXOFKLLOHT. 0, think not less I love thee, That our paths are parted now ; For the stars that burn above thee Are not truer than my vow ; As the fragrance from the blossom, As the moon unto the night. Our love is to my bosom Its loveliness and light. O, think not less I love thee. That thy hand I thus resign ; In the heaven that bends above thee I will claim thee yet as mine. Through the vision of life's morning Ever flitted one like thee ; And thou, life's lapse adorning, Shalt hence that vision be. W. D. Gallagher. = 30 SOURNESS, OR SHARPNESS. BAYBERRY. Myrica Cerifera. Language SOURNESS, OR SHARPNESS. Now Fate preserve thee, lady fair ! I will not breathe the Frenchman's prayer, Who, to the maiden's great alarm. Exclaimed, " God pickle you, madame ! " But " Fate preserve thee ! " even as they, Our housewives notable, allay, With sugared sweets, an acid juice, And store it up for future use : So " Fate preserve thee" or thou'lt stay Unplucked upon the parent tree ; Unless thy sharpness be effaced, Thou'rt far too sour to suit my taste. Mrs. F. S. Osgood. He reads much ; He is a great observer, and he looks Quite through the deeds of men ; he loves no plays As thou dost, Antony ; he hears no music ; Seldom he smiles ; and smiles in such a sort. As if he mocked himself, and scorned his spirit, That could be moved to smile at any thing. Shakspeabe. Since both of you so like in manners be, Thou the worst husband, and the worst wife she, I wonder you no better should agree. Sheebouhnb. (O): @ @ HUMILITY. 31 BINDWEED. Convolvulus Arvensis. Language HUMILITY. The bird that soars on highest wing Builds on the ground her lowly nest ; And she that doth most sweetly sing Sings in the shade when all things rest : In lark and nightingale we see What honor hath humility. When Mary chose the " better part," She meekly sat at Jesus' feet ; And Lydia's gently-opened heart Was made for God's own temple meet : Fairest and best adorned is she Whose emblem is humility. The saint that wears heaven's brightest crown In deepest adoration bends ; The weight of glory bends him down The most when most his soul ascends : Nearest the throne itself must be The footstool of humility. MOXXOOMERT. Here is a precious jewel I have found Among the filth and rubbish of the world. I'll stoop for it, but when I wear it here. Set on my forehead like the morning star. The world may wonder, but it will not laugh. LOJTGrELLOW. @ =! 32 STOICISM. BOX. Buxus. Language STOICISM. I ne'er will weep again ! I will meet fate with an unblencliing eye ; For better far in proud contempt to die Than idly talk of pain. Can I not bear all things ? Who talks of weakness to a soul like mine ? Love, hope, pity, sorrow, I resign. And all that fortune brings. In lonely strength I stand, Unmoved though earthquakes open at my feet ; Though storms of malice on my bosom beat, I can their rage withstand. Ajtox. My sole resources in the path I trod Were these my bark my sword my love my God. The last I left in youth : he leaves me now ; And man but works his will to lay mc low. I have no thought to mock his throne with prayer Wrung from the coward crouching of despair ; It is enough I breathe and I can bear. BvKOir. @ @ WEARINESS. 33 BRAMBLE. Language WEARINESS. O FOR thy wings, thou dove, Now sailing by with sunshine on thy breast ! That, borne like thee above, I too might flee away, and be at rest. O, to some cool recess. Take, take me with thee on the summer wind ; Leaving the weariness And all the fever of this world behind. The aching and the void Within the heart whereunto none reply, The early hopes destroyed, Bird, bear me with thee through the sunny sky. Mbs. Hsuans. Art thou a weary soul, and dost thon cry For rest ? Wait, and thou soon shalt have That thou dost crave. For death is real the GRAVE no mockery. = 34 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. There are few natural objects more poetical in their general associations than flowers ; nor has there ever been a poet, simple or sublime, who has not adorned his verse with these specimens of na- ture's cunning workmanship. From the majestic sunflower, towering above her sisters of the gar- den, and faithfully turning to welcome the god of day, to the little humble and well-known weed that is said to close its crimson eye before impend- ing showers, there is scarcely one flower which may not, from its loveliness, its perfume, its natural situation, or its classical association, be considered highly poetical. As the welcome messenger of spring, the snow- drop claims our first regard ; and countless are the lays in which the praises of this little modest flower are sung. The contrast it presents of green and white (ever the most pleasing of contrasts to the human eye) may be one reason why mankind agree in their admiration of its simple beauties; but a far more powerful reason is the delightful association by which it is connected with the idea of returning spring ; the conviction that the vege- table world through the tedious winter months has not been dead, but sleeping ; and that long nights, fearful storms, and chilling blasts have a limita- tion and a bound assigned them, and must in their @ -- i THE POETRY OF FLOWERS., 35 appointed tirae give place to the fructifying and genial influence of spring. Perhaps we have mur- mured (for what is there in the ordinations of Providence at which man will not dare to mur- mur?) at the dreariness of winter. Perhaps we have felt the rough blast too piercing to accord with our artificial habits. Perhaps we have thought long of the melting of the snow that im- peded our noonday walk. But it vanishes at last; and there, beneath its white coverlet, lies the delicate snowdrop, so pure and pale, so true an emblem of hope, and trust, and confidence, that it might teach a lesson to the desponding, and show the useless and inactive how invaluable are the stirrings of that energy that can work out its pur- pose in secret, and under oppression, and be ready in the fulness of time to make that purpose mani- fest and complete. The snowdrop teaches also another lesson. It marks out the progress of time. We cannot behold it without feeling that another spring has come, and immediately our thoughts recur to the events which have occurred since last its fairy bells were expanded. We think of those who were near and dear to us then. It is possible they may never be near again ; it is equally possi- ble they may be dear no longer. Memory is busy with the past; until anticipation takes up the chain of thought, and we conjure up, and at last shape out in characters of hope, a long succession of chances and changes to fill up the revolving ^ 36 , THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. seasons which must come and go before that little flower shall burst forth in its loveliness again. Happy is it for those who have so counted the cost of the coming year, that they shall not find at the end they have expended either hope or desire in fruitless speculations. It is of little consequence what flower comes next under consideration. A few specimens will serve the purpose of proving that these lovely pro- ductions of nature are, in their general associa- tions, highly poetical. The primrose is one upon which we dwell with pleasure proportioned to our taste for rural scenery, and the estimate we have previously formed of the advantages of a peaceful and secluded life. In connection with this flower, imagination pictures a thatched cottage standing on the slope of the hill, and a little woody dell, whose green banks are spangled all over with yel- low stars, while a troop of rosy children are gam- bolling on the same bank, gathering the flowers, as we used to gather them ourselves, before the toils and struggles of mortal conflict had worn us down to what we are now ; and thus presenting to the mind the combined ideas of natural enjoyment, innocence, and rural peace the more vivid, be- cause we can remember the time when some- thing like this was mingled with the cup of which we drank the more touching, because we doubt whether, if such pure drops were still there, they would not to our taste have lost their sweetness. = THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 37 The violet, while it pleases by its modest, retir- ing beauty, possesses the additioiral charm of the most exquisite of all perfumes, which, inhaled with the pure and invigorating breezes of spring, always brings back in remembrance a lively con- ception of that delightful season. Thus, in the language of poetry, " the violet-scented gale " is synonymous with those accumulated and sweetly- blended gi'atifications which we derive from odors, flowers, and balmy breezes ; and above all, from the contemplation of renovated nature, once more bursting forth into beauty and perfection. The jessamine, also, with its dark-green leaves, and little silver stars, saluting us with its delicious scent through the open casement, and impregnat- ing the whole atmosphere of the garden with its sweetness, has been sung and celebrated by so many poets, that our associations are with their numbers, rather than with any intrinsic quality in the flower itself. Indeed, whatever may have first established the rank of flowers in the poetical world, they have become to us like notes of music, passed on from lyre to lyre ; and whenever a chord is thrilled with the harmony of song, these lovely images present themselves, neither impaired in their beauty, nor exhausted of their sweetness, for having been the medium of poetic feeling ever since the world began. It is impossible to expend a moment's thought upon the lily, without recurring to that memorable = - =@ 38 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. passage in the sacred volume " Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow. They toil not, neither do they spin ; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." From the little common flower called heart's ease, we turn to that well-known passage of Shakspeare, where the fairy king so beautifully describes the "little western flower." And the forget-me-not has a thousand associa- tions tender and touching ; but unfortunately, like many other sweet things, rude hands have almost robbed it of its charm. Who can behold the pale narcissus, standing by the silent brook, its stately form reflected in the glassy mirror, without losing themselves in that most fanciful of all poetical conceptions, in which the graceful youth is de- scribed as gazing upon his own beauty, until he becomes lost in admiration, and finally enamoured of himself? while hopeless Echo sighs herself away into a sound, for the love, which, having centred in such an object, was never to be bought by her caresses, nor won by her despair. Through gardens, fields, forests, and even over rugged mountains, we might wander on in this fanciful quest after remote ideas of pleasurable sensation connected with present beauty and en- joyment ; nor would our search be fruitless so long as the bosom of the earth afforded a receptacle for the germinating seed, so long as the gentle gales of summer continued to waft them from the parent @ <2) THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 39 [ stem, or so long as the welcome sun looked forth upon the ever-blooming garden of nature. One instance more, and we have done. The " lady rose," as poets have designated this queen of beauty, claims the latest, though not the least consideration in speaking of the poetry of flowers. In the poetic world, the first honors have been awarded to the rose ; for what reason it is not easy to define, unless from its exquisite combination of perfume, form, and color, which have entitled this sovereign of flowers in one country to be mated with the nightingale in another, to be chosen with the distinction of red and white, as the badge of two honorable and royal houses. It would be difficult to trace the supremacy of the rose to its origin ; but mankind have so generally agreed in paying homage to her charms, that our associations in the present day are chiefly with the poetic strains in which they are celebrated. The beauty of the rose is exhibited under so many dif- ferent forms, that it would be impossible to say which had the greatest claim upon the regard of the poet ; but certainly those kinds which have been recently introduced, or those which are reared by unnatural means, with care and difficulty, are to us the least poetical, because our associations with them are comparatively few, and those few relate chiefly to garden culture. There is one circumstance connected with the rose, which renders it a more true and striking @ 40 THE POETRY OP FLOWERS. emblem of earthly pleasure than any other flower : it bears a thorn. While its odorous breath is float- ing on the summer gale, and its blushing cheek, half hid amongst the sheltering leaves, seems to woo and yet shrink from the beholder's gaze, touch but with adventurous hand the garden queen, and you are pierced with her protecting thorns : would you pluck the rose, and weave it into a garland for the brow you love best, that brow will be wounded: or place the sweet blos- som in your bosom, the thorn will be there. This real or ideal mingling of pain and sorrow with the exquisite beauty of the rose aflbrds a never- ending theme to those who are best acquainted with the inevitable blending of clouds and sun- shine, hope and fear, weal and woe, in this our earthly inheritance. With every thing fair, or sweet, or exquisite in this world, it has seemed meet to that wisdom which appoints our sorrows, and sets a bound to our enjoyments, to affix some stain, some bitter- ness, or some alloy, which may not inaptly be called, in figurative language, a thorn. St. Paul emphatically speaks of a " thorn in the flesh ; " and from this expression, as well as from his earnest- ness in having prayed thrice that it might be re- moved, we conclude' it must have been something particularly galling to the natural man. W^e hear of the thorn of ingratitude, the thorn of envy, the thorn of unrequited love indeed, of thorns as @ - @ @ THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 41 numerous as our pleasures ; and few there are who can look back upon the experience of life w^ithout acknowledging that every earthly good they have desired, pursued, or attained, has had its peculiar thorn. Who has ever cast himself into the lap of luxury without finding that his couch was strewed with thorns ? Who has reached the summit of his ambition without feeling, on that exalted pinnacle, that he stood on thorns? Who has placed the diadem upon his brow without perceiving that thorns were thickly set within the royal circlet? Who has folded to his bosom all that he desired of earth's treasures without feeling that bosom pierced with thorns ? All that we enjoy in this world, or yearn to possess, has this accompani- ment. The more intense the enjoyment, the sharper the thorn ; and those who have described most feelingly the inner workings of the human heart, have unfailingly touched upon this fact with the melancholy sadness of truth. Far be it from one, who would not willingly fall under the stigma of ingratitude, to disparage the nature or the number of earthly pleasures pleas- ures which are spread before us without price or limitation, in our daily walk, and in our nightly rest pleasures which lie scattered around our path when we go forth upon the hills or wander in the valley, when we look up to the starry sky or down to the fruitful earth pleasures which unite the human family in one bond of fellowship, !@ - ^ -- 42 THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. surround us at our board, cheer us at our fireside, smooth the couch on which we slumber, and even follow our wandering steps long, long after we have ceased to regard them with gratitude or joy. I speak of the thorn which accompanies these pleasures not with murmuring or complaint; I speak of the' wounds inflicted by this thorn with a living consciousness of their poignancy and anguish ; because exquisite and dear as mere earthly pleasures may sometimes be, I would still contrast them with such as are not earthly. I would contrast the thorn and the wound, the dis- appointment and the pain, which accompany all such pleasures as are merely temporal, with the fulness of happiness, the peace, and the crown, accompanying those which are eternal. Mes. Ellis. They smilingly fulfil Their Maker's will, All meekly bending 'neath the tempest's weight; By pride unvisited, Though richly raimented, As is a monarch in his robes of state. (). @ RICHES. 43 BUTTERCUP -KINGCUP. Ranunculus acris. Language RICHES. To purchase heaven has gold the power ? Can gold remove the mortal hour? In life can love be bought with gold ? Are friendship's pleasures to be sold ? No ; all that's worth a wish, a thought, Fair virtue gives unbribed, unbought: Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind ; Let nobler views engage thy mind. Dr. JouifsoN. Why dost thou heap up wealth, which thou must quit, Or, what is worse, be left by it ? Why dost thou load thyself, when thou'rt to fly, O man, ordained to die ? Cowley. To catch Dame Fortune's golden smile, Assiduous wait upon her, And gather gear by every wile That's justified by honor. Not for to hide it in a hedge, Not for a train attendant ; But for the glorious privilege Of being independent. -- @: 44 ARTIFICE, OR A SNARE. CATCHFLY. Silene. Language ARTIFICE, OR A SNARE. Young men fly when beauty darts Amorous glances at their hearts ; The fixed mark gives the shooter aim ; And ladies' looks have power to maim ; Now 'twixt their lips, now in their eyes. Rapt in a smile, or kiss, love lies ; Then fly betimes, for only they Conquer love that run away. Caeeh". Farewell ! ah, farewell ! though my spirit may droop, That its fond dream has fled, and in bitterness stoop To the dust for the fall of the idol it made. My pride and its purity nought shall degrade. I thought thee all perfect, as pure as the sun, And thy truth and thy brightness my wild worship won ; But alas ! the illusion so cherished is o'er ; My pride has been roused, and I'll meet thee no more. AxoN- The blossoms of passion, Gay and luxuriant flowers, are brighter and fuller of fra- grance ; But they beguile us and lead us astray, and their odor is deadly. Longfellow. ENERGY IN ADVERSITY. 45 CAMOMILE. Anthemis JYobilis. Language ENERGY IN ADVERSITY. Never go gloomily, man with a mind ; Hope is a better companion than fear ; Providence, ever benignant and kind, Gives with a smile what you take with a tear ; All will be right ; Look to the light ; Morning is ever the daughter of night ; All that is black will be all that is bright ; Cheerily, cheerily, then ! cheer up ! Many a foe is a friend in disguise ; Many a sorrow a blessing most true, Helping the heart to be happy and wise With lore ever precious and joys ever new ; Stand in the van ; Strive like a man ; This is the bravest and cleverest plan ; Trusting in God, while you do what you can ; Cheerily, cheerily, then ! cheer up ! T UPPER. If your resolutions be like mine, We will yet give our sorrows a brave end. Justice is for us ; so may fortune be : I'm a bright proof of her inconstancy ; But if no god will lend us any aid, Let us be gods and fortune to ourselves. ^^^^^ @ @ 46 DISDAIN. CARNATION. Dianthiis. Language DISDAIN. A PRIME city girl, With a frown and a curl On her lip that proclaimed her a scoffer, Was quite in a panic That John a mechanic Had affronted her pride with an " offer." " 'Tis exceedingly queer, I acknowledge, my dear," Retorted her sorrowing brother ; " But you may depend, To your very life's end You'll never be plagued with another." Anoit. Madam, you haply scorn the vulgar earth Of which I stand compacted ; and because I cannot add a splendor to my name, Reflective from a royal pedigree, You interdict my language ; but be pleased To know, the ashes of my ancestors. If intermingled in the tomb with kings, Could hardly be distinguished. The stars shoot An equal influence on the open cottage, Where the poor shepherd's child is rudely nursed, As on the cradle where the prince is rocked With care and whisper. Habbivotov. = STRENGTH. 47 CEDAR TREE. Juniperus. Language STRENGTH. And while in peace abiding Within a sheltered home, We feel as sin and evil Could never, never come ; But let the strong temptation rise As whirlwinds sweep the sea. We find no strength to 'scape the wreck. Save, pitying God, in thee ! Mrs. Ay, nerve thy spirit to the proof. And blench not at thy chosen lot : The timid good may stand aloof, The sage may frown ; yet faint thou not. Nor heed the shaft too surely cast, The hissing, stinging bolt of scorn ; For with thy side shall dwell at last The victory of endurance born. There is strength Deep bedded in our hearts, of which we reck But little till the shafts of heaven have pierced Its fragile dwelling. Must not earth be rent Before her gems are found ? Mrs. Hemaxs. -'b @ = II 48 SPIRITUAL BEAUTY. CHERRY BLOSSOM. Primus Ccrasus. Language SPIRITUAL BEAUTY. I've gazed on many. a brigliter face, But ne'er on one, for years, Where beauty left so soft a trace As it had left on hers. But who can paint the spell that wove A brightness round the whole ? 'Twould take an angel from the skies To paint the immortal soul To trace the light, the inborn grace, The spirit sparkling o'er the face. Mks. Welby. 'Tis not its binding fair. Though it show beauty rare ; 'Tis not its cover rich, winneth me so ; Vainly the blush and smile Meet on thy cheek the while, Did not the light within equally glow ? Bright eyes will lose their ray, Roses will fade away ; But the fair spirit for death is too pure ; And like its cause in thee. Holy, and strong, and free : While thy soul lives, my passion will endure. Mes. Osgood. - MENTAL BEAUTY. = 49 CLEMATIS. Clematis Virginica. Language MENTAL BEAUTY. What's female beauty but an air divine, Through which the mind's all gentle graces shine ? They, like the sun, irradiate all between ; The body charms because the sotd is seen. Hence men are often captives of a face, They know not why, of no peculiar grace ; Some forms, though bright, no mortal man can bear Some, none resist, though not exceeding fair. Time has small power O'er features the mind moulds. Roses, where They once have bloomed, a fragrance leave behind ; And harmony will linger on the wind ; And suns continue to light up the air When set ; and music from the broken shrine Breathes, it is said, around whose altar stone His flower the votary has ceased to twine Types of the beauty that, when youth is gone. Breathes from the soul whose brightness mocks decline. Georok Hill. Ah ! the cheek and eye v:i\l fade/ Beauty owns immortal grace ; Throned she sits within the soul; There is beauty's dwelling-place. Miss Vaxdenhoff. 1= - @j 64 EAKLY TIMES. With elevated head and outstretched hand, the father of mankind implored from the Creator the choicest blessing of temporal gifts and spiritual guidance. He prayed for peace, and love, and issue ; and as he lifted his soul in prayer, the rays of the setting sun played in golden radiance round his head, and seemed a crown dropped there by the hand of some ministering angel. Adam paused, and there was silence : the high communion of his heart could not brook a sudden transfer to human colloquy, but mingling the love of God with parental affection, he at length ad- dressed his waiting children ; and while he com- mended to them that gentle forbearance which is the child of love, and parent of desirable peace, he absolved them both from all duty of special obedi- ence, and gave to them the right to rank with him in the race of families, but below him in patri- archal and political authority. " Go, my son, and be master of thy tent and thy flock : no more can I exact obedience from thee ; no more need thy conscience excite in thee to award me more than filial reverence. Go, be the head of thine house, and may God bless thee and thine, as he has blessed me in thee." The nuptial benediction of Eve was breathed almost in silence over her daughter, whom she kissed with maternal fondness, and lifted up her voice and wept. The sacrificial flame ascended from the altar, @= EARLY TIMES. 65 and through the clear, pure atmosphere above and around them burst forth a thousand stars, ere yet the posthumous light of the sun had passed from the west. Cain went silently and sullenly down the hill, darkening in soul. The wedded pair rose from before the altar, and hand in hand they sought their home. Was it the evening breeze amongst acacia springs that poured such sweetness out ? Or was it the multitude of 'angelic visitors invisibly throng- ing the air that struck the chords of their harps, and sent up with the incense from the altar their epithalamium for the first marriage of the chil- dren of men ? If it was, their voices of praise and thanksgiving were not more acceptable than the incense that went up from the hearts of Abel and his wife J. R. Chandler. : @ , ' @ 66 INNOCENCE. DAISY. Bellis. Language IIIWOCENCE. Innocent maid and snow-white flower, "Well are ye paired in your opening hour ; Thus should the pure and lovely meet, Stainless with stainless, and sweet with sweet. Throw it aside in thy weary hour ; Throw to the ground the fair white flower ; Yet as thy smiling years depart. Keep that white and innocent heart. Bryan Soft as the memory of buried love. Pure as the prayer which childhood wafts above. Was she the daughter of that rude old chief. Byko A mind rejoicing in the light Which melted through its graceful bower, Leaf after leaf serenely bright, And stainless in its holy white. Unfolding like a morning flower. Whittiek. I wish the bud would never blow ! 'Tis prettier and purer so : It blushes through its bower of green And peeps above the mossy screen, So timidly, I cannot bear To have it open to the air ! Mrs. Osgood. @: @. :(0) COQUETRY. 67 DANDELION. Leontodon. !>= Language COQUETRY. Think not I love him, though I ask for him : 'Tis but a peevish boy yet he talks well ; But what care I for words ? yet words do well When he that speaks them pleases those that hear. Shakspeake. Then, youth, thou fond believer. The wily siren shun : Who trusts the dear deceiver Will surely be undone. When beauty triumphs, ah, beware ! Her smile is hope ! her frown despair ! Montgomery's Wandekek of Switzerland. * I would sooner bind My thoughts to the open sky ; I would worship as soon a familiar star. That is bright to every eye. 'Twere to love the wind that is free to all. The wave of the beautiful sea 'Twere to hope for all the light in heaven. To hope for the love of thee. Willis. Now I pray thee do not call My cousin a coquette. When I tell you she had danglers By the dozen in her net : For she was very beautiful, Bewildering and bright. Mrs. Osgood. <) @ 68 POETRY. EGLANTINE, OR SWEETBRIER. Rosa rubiginosa. Language POETRY. Never did poesy appear So full of heaven to me, as when I saw how it would pierce through pride and fear, To the lives of coarsest men ! I thought, these men will carry hence Promptings, their former life above, And something of a finer reverence For beauty, truth, and love. J. R. Lowell. The land of song within thee lies. Watered by living springs ; The lids of Fancy's sleepless eyes Are gates unto that paradise ; Holy thoughts, like stars, arise ; Its clouds are angels' wings. Look, then, into thy heart, and write ; Yes, into life's deep stream : All forms of sorrow and delight, All solemn voices of the night. These can soothe thee, or affright : Be these henceforth thy theme. LOXGFBLLOW. @= ' i= ALWAYS REMEMBERED. -- 69 EVERLASTING. Gnaplialium. Language ALWxVYS REMEMBERED. Through the fragrant grove of olives, with a dark- eyed child of Spain, I have often whiled the hours, since I crossed the moaning main ; But the soul in those soft, brilliant ejes, the low, melodi- ous tone, Bade mournful thoughts of thee arise, my beautiful, my own! 'Mid the vines of sunny France, love, I have twined the silken curl, And met the merry kisses of a light and laughing girl. And richly waved the glittering tress, and wildly woke her glee ! I pined the more for thy caress more fondly thought of thee ! A haughty, high-born English maid oft shares with me the dance ; Italia's daughter bends on me her full, impassioned glance ; Nor graceful mien, nor dimpled bloom, nor look of loving light, Can win this faithful soul from thee, my purest, and most bright ! Mns. Osgood. 5): @ = 70 POVERTY AND WORTH. EVERGREEN. Mespilus. Language POVERTY AND WORTH. 0, POOR man's son, scorn not tlij state ; There is worse weariness than thine In merely being rich and great : Toil only gives the soul to shine, And makes rest fragrant and benign A heritage, it seems to me, Worth being poor to hold in fee. J. B. Lowell. My purse is very slim, and very few The acres that I number ; But I am seldom stupid, never blue ; My riches are an honest heart, and true, And quiet slumber. All my offering must be Truth and spotless constancy. Epes Sargent. Miss Landon. She had passed through the shadow and sunlight of life ; She had learned, in its storms, to exult and endure ; And her gentle reply with sweet wisdom was rife " To me there are none in the universe poor ! " : TIME. ^(O) 71 FIR. Pinus halsamea. Language TIME. That brow was fair to see, love, That looks so shaded now ; But for me it bore the care, love, That spoiled a bonny brow. And though no longer there, love. The gloss it had of yore, Still memory looks and dotes, love, Where hope admired before. To-morrow you will live, you always cry. In what far country doth this morrow lie. That 'tis so mighty long ere it arrive ? Beyond the Indies doth this morrow live ? 'Tis so far-fetched, this morrow, that I fear 'Twill be both very old and very dear. To-morrow will I live, the fool doth say : To-day itself s too late ; the wise lived yesterday. Cowley. Why should we count our life by years. Since years are short, and pass away ? Or why by fortune's smiles or tears. Since tears are vain, and smiles decay ? O, count by virtues : these shall last When life's lame-footed race is o'er : And these, v/hen earthly joys are past. May cheer us on a brighter shore. r() 72 DOMESTIC INDUSTRY. FLAX. Linum, Language DOMESTIC INDUSTRY. The old lady sat in her rocking chair Darn, darn, darn ; The fire was bright and the night was fair Darn, darn, darn ; The stocking was old, and the heel was worn, But she was well furnished with needle and yarn, And well she knew how the heel to turn Darn, darn, darn. She had sat in her chair from morn till night Darn, darn, darn ; And still her eye was watchful and bright Darn, darn, darn ; For well she used her needle to ply, And every hole in a stocking could spy Darn, darn, darn. Young ladies, if ever you hope to be wives, Darn, darn, darn ; For many a call you will have in your lives, Darn, darn,, darn ; "Would you keep your cliildren neat and clean ? Would you save their toes from frostbites keen ? Then never believe that darnings are mean But darn, darn, darn. (5 ) - =^@ I @ . (o) DELICATE BEAUTY. 73 FLOWER OF AN HOUR. Hibiscus trionum. Language DELICATE BEAUTY. Spuing lias no blossom fairer than thy form, Winter no snow wreath purer than thy mind ; The dewdrop trembling to the morning beam Is like thy smile, pure, transient, heaven refined. Mrs. L. I. PyiKsoif. She has a glowing heart, they say, Though calm her seeming be ; And oft that warm heart's lovely play Upon her cheek I see. Her chfeek is almost always pale, And marble cold it seems ; But a soft color quivers there. At times, in rosy gleams. Some sudden throb of love, or grief. Or pity, or delight, And lo ! a flush of beauty, brief. But passionately bright ! Mrs. Osgood. There was a soft and pensive grace, A cast of thought upon her face, That suited well the forehead high. The eyelash dark, and downcast eye. The mild expression spoke a mind In duty firm, composed, resigned. Scott's Rokeby. ^ @ 74 I AM BURNING WITH LOVE. FLOWER-DE-LUCE. /m plicata. Language I AM BURNING WITH LOVE. It warms me, it charms me, To mention but her name ; It heats me, it beats me, And sets me a' on flame. BUENS. Like Ixion, I look on Juno, feel mj heart turn to cinders "With an invisible fire ; and yet, should she Deign to appear clothed in a various cloud, The majesty of the substance is so sacred I durst not clasp the shadow. I behold her With adoration ; feast my eye, while all My other senses starve ; and, oft frequenting The place which she makes happy with her presence, I never yet had power, with tongue or pen, To move her to compassion, or make known What 'tis I languish for ; yet I must gaze still, Though it increase my flame. Massixger. Wlien love's well timed, 'tis not a fault to love ; The strong, the brave, the virtuous, and the wise, Sink in the soft captivity together. Addisok's Cato. @ =@ CONFIDENCE IN HEAVEN. 75 FLOWERING REED. Carina Augustifolia. Language CONFIDENCE IN HEAVEN. Passing the enclosure where the dead repose, I saw, in sable weeds, a gentle pair Lingering with fond regard, at evening's close, Beside a little grave fresh swelling there. Silent they stood serene their thoughtful air ; There fell no tear, no vain complaint arose ; Faith seemed to prompt the unutterable prayer. And to their view the eternal home disclose.' Next Sabbath brought me where the floweret lay ; Record of high descent the marble bore Heir of a noble house, and only stay ; And these words gathered from the Bible's store " The Lord hath given, the Lord hath ta'en away ; His holy name be blessed evermore." Airoir. God is nigh Even then when far away he seemeth ; When hope of freedom none appears. Believe so best for thee he deemeth : He in his time will dry thy tears. God is nigh ! Ulbich. 76 TRUE LOVE. FORGET-ME-NOT. Viola cucula. Language TRUE LOVE. Tell me, my beart, what love is : It giveth but to rob Two souls and one idea, Two hearts and but one throb. And tell me how love cometh : It comes and ah, 'tis here. And whither, pray, it fleeth : 'Twas not 'twas fancy mere. And when is love the purest ? When its own self it shuns. And when is love the deepest ? When love the stillest runs. And when is love the richest ? It hoardeth when it gives. And tell me how love speaketh : It speaketh not it lives. Whither my heart is gone, there follows my hand, and not elsewhere. For where the heart goes before, like a lamp, and illumes the pathway. Many things are made clear, that else lie hidden in darkness. Longfellow's Evangeline. (O) = zz=@ AMBITION. 77 FOXGLOVE. Digitalis. Language AMBITION. The world has won her she has learned Its measured smile and tread ; The foot, that once the snowflake spurned, By courtly rule is led ; And fashion's hand has smoothed the fold Of that luxuriant hair ; Where once the tress of glossy gold Waved wildly on the air. Mes. Osgood. TarfLerlane. The world ! 'twould be too little for thy pride ! Thou wouldst scale heaven. Bajazet. I would : away ! my soul Disdains thy conference. EowE's Tambelas-b. I am a woman : tell me not of fame ; The eagle's wing may sweep the stormy path, And fling back arrows where the dove would die. Miss Lakdoit. Give me the boon of love ! The path of fame is drear, And glory's arch doth ever span A hillside cold and sere. One wildflower from the path of love. All lowly though it lie. Is dearer than the wreath that waves To stern Ambition's eye. H. S. TUCKEBMAJT. (o ) @ 78 THE LADY PILGRI3I. THE LADY PILGRIM. It was early morning in one of the old palaces in England. The night had been a tempestuous one, but the heavy clouds were rolling away before the dawn, and the gray mist was creeping slowly up the sides of the mountains, and hanging in dense wreaths over the little streamlet which watered the valley below. Large drops of rain hung pendent upon the foliage of the gnarled old oaks which bordered the gravelled walks in the parks, while a flood of perfume came from the half- opened buds of the sweet young wildflowers. The proud Earl of Lincoln sat alone in his rich but antique reception room. His attitude was one of intense thought, for both arms rested heavily upon the marble table before him, and his head was dropped upon them, as if he were entirely absorbed in his musings. The strong beams of light, now fast thickening, streamed in through the high stained windows, and tinged with a silvery bright- ness the gray locks which wandered over his venera- ble forehead. A loose dressing gown, which his faithful old servitor, Dudley, had thrown around him, was carelessly looped over his chest, and swept the heavy oak floor upon either side of his chair, while his feet were thrust into a pair of delicately embroidered slippers, wrought by his idolized daughter, the Lady Arabella. @ - @ THE LADY PILGRIM. 79 The earl had long sat in that same position. Two or three times Dudley had passed in and out, pausing each time by the door, anxiously regarding his master, and wondering what had called him up that morning, long before another inmate of the castle was stirring. " What can be the matter ? " he muttered, as he turned away the last time, with an air of unsatis- fied curiosity. " He is not wont to be in such an unsocial mood. It is early, too," he continued, as he glanced up to an old clock which ticked in a curiously-carved case, in one corner of the hall. " Something more than usual is in the wind, for sure." " It cannot be ! " exclaimed the earl, lifting his face, with a troubled expression, from his hands ; " I had strong hopes of it, but it cannot be I The Lady Arabella is determined to dash from her lips every cup of happiness and honor I, in my doting fondness, would mingle for her ; she will never be a peeress in the proud realm of England ; she pre- fers an untitled plebeian to one of her own rank ; she laughs at all titles of distinction, and speaks even jestingly of stars, garters, and diamonds. From whom does the girl take her disposition ? Not from me. Heaven knows, not from me. My earliest dreams were of power ; my infantile grasp- ings were after the trappings of royalty ; but the countess, her mother, was a true prototype of the child modest as the violet which hides in the @ @ 1 ! - (5) ' 80 THE LADY PILGRIM. moss, unassuming as the humblest peasant girl in the kingdom. And yet she was all that a true woman should be^ continued the earl, as his eye moistened over her memory. " When alone with me, she was blithe as the spring bird, and her heart was brimful of all the kindly affections of our nature. She is dead, and Arabella alone is left to me sole heiress of the honors and riches of my house. I would link her with the house of Devonshire, for I cannot bear that plebeian blood should ever flow through a vein which claims kin- dred with me ; but the girl told me last night that she loved one without a title one as careless of the world's honors as herself. Isaac Johnson ! Who is he ? They say that he has vast wealth that, in my eye, is his only recommendation. Had it been otherwise, I would have punished his pre- sumption in aspiring to the hand of my child." Again the earl dropped his head, and mused moodily. " My lord," said Dudley, opening the .door, and cautiously peering in, " a gentleman in the hall desires an audience with you. Shall I admit him ? " " Who is he, and what is his business at this hour ? " asked the earl, half angrily. " Can I never have a moment to spend with my own thoughts ? Who is it, Dudley?" "I do not know, for true," said the old man, brushing his earlocks back. " If I might hazard @ = ^@ @ - =@ THE LADY PILGRIM. 81 a guess, I should say it was the young Duke of Devonshire the same who aided in res- cuing my young mistress last summer, when she was thrown from her palfrey among the jut- ting rocks in that terrible chasm, over which the hounds leaped while in pursuit of the stag. It may not be the same, but it looks wondrously like him ! " " The Duke of Devonshire ! " Pull my dress- ing gown around me, and then show him in," said the old nobleman, animatedly. " If it is the young Duke of Devonshire, he possesses claims upon the house of Lincoln which shall not long remain unacknowledged." The Earl of Lincoln rose, while the young and handsome duke came forward, and bowed grace- fully in his presence. He retained his hunting cap in his hand, the heavy plume of which nearly swept the floor, and his raven hair fell in rich masses over a brow which would not have looked out of place beneath a crown. " I throw myself upon your hospitality at an unusual hour," he said, as he took the extended hand of the earl, and pressed it fervently and re- spectfully. " I owe an apology, perhaps, for such an unceremonious intrusion ; but the morning was inviting, and I came forth early with a band of followers to the chase. The sight of your castle turrets arrested my attention, and, leaving my ex- pected train to follow a deer they had aroused, I @ - @ :@ 82 - THE LADY PILGRIM. turned in hither to avail myself, for a few hours, of your hospitality." " While the master of the castle lives," blandly replied the earl, " any hour which the Duke of Devonshire may choose for his visits will not prove ill timed or unwelcome." The duke bowed, as if grateful for the honor shown him by his distinguished host ; then, sinking upon an old and curiously-carved divan, which occupied a prominent position in the room, he began to dally with his plume, and converse in his most insinuating style. The servant closed the door upon his master and guest, and then turned to kennel the hounds, which were left in the yard. He fastened the dogs in their enclosme, and then sat down again on the steps of the eastern porch, to wait a summons to his master. The bright sun wheeled its broad disk from behind the eastern hills, and travelled higher and higher on his way towards the zenith. All nature was apparently re- joicing in a day well begun. For two or three long hours the old steward sat and looked out upon the scene spread before him. A low mur- mur, as of two engaged in an absorbing conversa- tion, came to him from the room of his master. At length, as impatience began to take possession of him, he heard his master's well-known step ap- proaching the door. He aroused himself quickly, to attend the summons which he felt sure awaited ^ (o) - (o) THE LADY PILGRIM. 83 him. At length it was given, and he opened the door of the reception room, and- looked in. " Dudley," said the old man, hurriedly, " say to the Lady Arabella that her father and the Duke of Devonshire request an immediate interview. They wait her presence." ,, " Ay, it is as I thought," muttered the old man, as he moved slowly away in the direction of his lady's chamber: "the duke scents more precious game than could be started in the park this morn- ing ; but it will be in vain all in vain." He paused, after having ascended the oaken stair- case, before a door leading into a chamber, the most spacious and luxurious in the castle. It would seem that every delicacy had been brought into requisition, by the Earl of Lincoln, to adorn and beautify the room in which his darling daughter spent the sunny days of her maidenhood. Rich vases of flowers loaded the mantel-piece and tables, while splendidly-bound books were scat- tered here and there throughout the room. In the dark recesses of one of the windows, the Lady Arabella herself was seated, busily engaged with a book of devotions. While one little, dainty hand supported her cheek, the other, with a small circlet of gold around the wrist, hung over the arm of the high-backed chair in which she reposed. Her dress was of white, made in the peculiar fash- ion of that day, and her hair, soft and brown, was combed smoothly back from her high, intellectual -- - (5) @ - ^ - = 84 THE LADY PILGRIM. brow, and confined behind with a small comb, studded with diamonds. As the old servant opened the door, she raised her large blue eyes from the book where they had been resting, and displayed a face remarkable for the purity and sweetness of its expression, rather than for its beauty. She was evidently one of those gentle beings who make the paths they chance to tread in life seem smooth and thornless one whose low musical words sink deep into the heart, and dwell there like remembered melody one fragile as the violet in the deep wood, and yet born " to hope, and endure all things," for conscience' sake. She seemed to have participated in the spirit of unrest which had pervaded the household that morning, for she had been up several hours, and a cluster of blush roses fastened into the front of her dress told that she had been walking in the garden, enjoying the invigorating influences of the early morning. Perhaps she was not unaware of her father's entertaining an unusual guest that morning ; for she rose immediately, and followed old Dudley to the room where they were waiting. As she entered, the young Duke of Devonshire rose hurriedly to greet her, while a soft blush man- tled her face and neck. The earl, her father, fixed his "keen eyes upon her face, as if he would have read her inmost soul ; but, save the blush of maid- enly modesty, there was no sign of agitation. She seated herself, calmly and collectedly, beside @ @ THE LADY PILGRIM. 85 the chair recently occupied by her father, and then sat as if waiting the opening of a conversation, which a delicate instinct seemed to teach her was to follow, and which she knew would cause wounds she could never heal. " My daughter has not forgotten one to whom, under God, she owes her life ! " said the earl, half angrily, as he marked her merely polite reception of their illustrious guest ; " the Duke of Devon- shire needs no formal introduction to her, I am sure : he rescued you from a watery grave." " I vjould have done it, and been most happy in perilling my life for one so priceless," said the duke, in an agitated voice ; " but an arm, stronger than mine, bore her from the waves, while I re- ceived her from the bank. For the trifling service I was then happy enough to have it in my power to render, no thanks are due." " I have been assured by my servants, who wit- nessed the scene," said the earl, " that it was to your bravery I am indebted for the life of my child. Our interview was brief at that time, and my feelings were too much agitated to admit of my thanking you as I ought. My child has since met with you, and thanked you in person, I have been told ; but neither thanks nor gold can pay the debt of gratitude we are under to you." " I vshould, indeed, be tlamewofthy and un- thankful, my dear father, were I ever to forget the service rendered me by the duke and his friend in Co) 86 THE LADY PILGRIM. that dreadful hour of peril," said the Lady Ara- bella, her sweet eyes filling with tears as she spoke. " The Duke of Devonshire and Mr. John- son will ever live in my liveliest remembrance." " Mr. Johnson ! " said the earl, lowering his heavy eyebrows as he spoke. "Pray, to what Mr. Johnson are we indebted ? and why have I never been informed of it before ? " " Isaac Johnson, dear father. The subject is a painful one, and has never been adverted to since. My lord, the Duke of Devonshire, though he claim not thanks, will ever be the possessor of my grati- tude." As she spoke, she bowed towards the seat the duke had resumed during the conversation. " I claim not gratitude, noble lady, for any service rendered," said the duke, rising and approaching her ; " but there is a sentiment akin to that which I would give worlds on worlds to possess, were they mine. I mean your love. '^ As he spoke, he took her hand, and kneeled at her feet. The flush came and went upon the cheek of the noble lady ; and her hand trembled slightly in the palm which enclosed it ; but there were no heart flutterings ; her cheek, after a few moments, resumed its steady color, and the nerves grew firm, while in a soft and gentle voice she made rdply. " My warmest, best gratitude, noble duke, is yours my love is irrevocably bestowed upon @ - ^=^=(o) THE LADY PILGRIM. 87 another irrevocably bestoived ; and words have been spoken which cannot be recalled. Rise, I pray you," she continued, withdrawing her hand, and motioning him to his feet ; " rise, for I can- not endure to see one to whom I am so deeply indebted assuming the attitude of a suppliant." The duke did not stir. Not a muscle changed ; he seemed transfixed to the spot. He folded his hands mechanically over his breast, and his large, dark eyes seemed dilating with intense emotion. One short sentence from the fresh, unchanging lips above him had sealed his doom, and crushed hopes and aspirations long and fondly enter- tained. There was no revocation to be made no words to be recalled ; he read it in the clear blue eye, in the calm and steady voice, and unfal- tering gaze of the maiden before him. O, what bitter hours there are in life ! " hours which crush the hopes from out young hearts," and wring bitter tears from eyes unused to weep- ing! moments of agony, when Friendship, and Love, and Happiness are so many phantoms, rising up and mocking us in our misery. The Lady Arabella glanced timidly up to the face of her father. He still stood in the centre of the room, but his cheek had become ashy in its hue, and his eyes were bent upon her more in an- ger than in sorrow. As he encountered her gaze, he stepped forward, and, laying his hand upon her head, spoke. @ @ 88 THE LADY PILGRIM. " Arabella, my child, reflect well upon what you are doing ! Remember that this hour seals your fate ! Do you refuse to ally yourself with one of the proudest houses in the realm ? Will you per- severe in preferring an untitled plebeian to the no- bleman who now sues for your hand ? " " Father ! dearest, best of fathers ! I Jiave reflected I have decided. Prevarication wouldj on my part, be base wickedness. I am sorry to wound, but I cannot retract." " The fiat has gone forth, then, my noble duke," said the earl, sorrowfully, removing his hand from the head of his child to the arm of the suitor at her feet. " Rise ! the Lady Arabella is determined to ' make her own path, and fling her own shadow upon it ! ' " " We part not in anger I " said the girl, as she extended her hand to the duke, while he was in the act of rising. " We will henceforth be friends I " As she spoke, one of the blush roses in her dress fell from her bosom to the floor. The duke caught it hastily, pressed it to his lips, and rushed from her presence without other reply. Those who knew his proud and noble nature said after- wards that " he was crazed with unrequited love." The year 1632 dawned over a band of hum- ble Pilgrims, who had fled from the old world, and fixed their rude habitations in the wilds of @ @ @ @ THE LADY PILGRIM. 89 America. They sought among savage hordes the dearest right of man " Freedom to worship God." Their rude cabins were built of logs, and some even dwelt in the caves of the earth. They had left behind them comforts, wealth, friends, and ease. They had gained by the exchange that which was priceless " liberty of conscience and speech." Some of them were hardy, stalwart men crea- tures of iron nerve and inflexible wills ; but others had been reared in the lap of luxury, and the chill, rough winds of New England affected them as the early frost does the spring flower. Among the latter was the Lady Arabella Johnson, the Earl of Lincoln's idolized child. She was a sunbeam in the dark ship. Her sweet voice might have been heard all day long, reading God's precious promises to the aged, com- forting the sick, strengthening the weak, and cheer- ing all. To her husband she was emphatically " an angel of mercy." In his saddest hours, she could chase away the gloom which gathered over his face ; her own spirit never sunk into de- spondency; no privation ever called a murmur to her lip. On the 12th of June, 1630, the ship reached the port for which it was bound, in Salem, Massa- chusetts. Their reception among the Pilgrims was a most melancholy one, for disease had been among the colonists, and many of them, as they 90 THE LADY PILGRIM. welcomed their friends, cried out, in the touching - language of grief, " We have looked on Death since we met you last ! " There was no luxurious table spread for them in the wilderness no princely palace opening its portals for their reception. And yet again this noble-minded heroine murmured not. To the poor and distressed, in the colony, her visits were frequent; her sweet smile, yea, merry laugh, gushed out like the bird's music in spring, while building its nest in the warm sunshine ; and yet none doubted her piety, for she bore in her very looks the spirit of the Savior. But the flower of the Pilgrims could not long withstand the chill winds and hoarse blasts of a New England cli- mate. It withered away, and the year 1632 wit- nessed its dissolution. Again it was early morning ; but the sun looked down upon no stately castle in the wild woods of the new world. In a brown frame house, rendered almost dreary from its secluded situation, there was transpiring one of the most interesting of earthly scenes: a Christian was going home to God home to that bright and beautiful world, " where the redeemed walk." Her cheek was as hueless as the pillow on which it rested ; her breath came short and thick ; but her eyes had an unearthly lustre, and in the weak tones of her voice there was a melody sweet as the swan's dying note. Through the raised (O) - =r.=(0) <2) ''THE LADY PILGRIM. 91 windows a soft, cool breeze stole from the bosom of the placid ocean, and fanned the few auburn curls which strayed out from beneath her cap. O ! in that hour she seemed too beautiful for death too beautiful to be laid away in the cold, dark grave, where the worm revels on its prey. The Pilgrims were all there all had come in to witness the visitation of that dread tyrant, who takes from the arms* of affection its cherished idol. That dread tyrant^ did I say ? I meant not thus. To the Christian, death is an angel of mer- cy; it holds the key which unlocks the golden gates of paradise ; it introduces him to the glori- ous company of "the angels and just men made perfect." The eyes of the sufferer closed for a moment, and her lips moved as if in prayer. While thus engaged, an expression of almost angelic beauty stole over her wasted features ; her blue eyes un- closed again, and, raising her arm, she wound it around her husband's neck, and drew his face close to hers. " Thou art very sorrowful, my beloved ! " she said. " Why do you mourn ? We weep not when an uncaged bird seeks the blue of its native skies when a flower droops in our path at noon- day, and withers. Why weep when a tired spirit seeks rest from the tumults of this world in the bosom of its God ? when, like the bird, it tries its wing in an upward flight, and rests at last only in =@ 92 THE LADY PILGRIM. its native skies ? Why weep that your much- loved wife is now to make a most happy exchange of worlds ? " The form of the strong, stern Puritan seemed convulsed with internal agony, and he did not make reply. The sweet voice of his wife con- tinued : " I have lived a happy life I am dying a hap- py death. Most blissful has been my fate I I have never made one sacrifice too many in the cause of Christ. A little while, and you, my be- loved, shall test the truthfulness of the promise given to those who leave " father and mother, houses and land," for the Redeemer's sake. Be strong be firm be deeply rooted in the faith ! Adieu ! We will meet soon in a brighter world." And as she spoke, she pressed her lips for the last time upon her husband's brow. One by one the Puritans came up to take her hand, and listen to her parting words. When this scene was over, she sunk back again upon her pillow, and closed her eyes. " The bitterness of death had passed." In the humble burying ground of the Pilgrims they made her grave, and laid her down with prayers and tears. One heart-broken mourner lingered long above the marble brow, and kissed and rekissed the cold lips, before they gave her to the dust. In the wild agony of his grief, he at first prayed to die. His prayer, it seemed, was signally answered, for he survived the wife of his @ @l =@ THE LADY PILGRIM. 93 bosom but a few months. They made his mound beside hers, and left them without sign or stone to mark their resting-place. Years afterwards, there swept out from one of the castles of the old world a funeral pageant. There was all the insignia of grief that wealth could command. Long trains of mourners, richly clad in black, passed through the fretted vaults and long aisles of the cathedral, and paused at last be- side a tomb, almost meet for the resting-place of kings. The Duke of Devonshire was dead, and royalty paid his dust due honors. The domestics, left at home to superintend affairs during the absence of the mourners, swept out from the bosom of the richly-wrought vestments the duke last wore a withered blush rose. None knew its history none even noticed its fall. The heart near which it had so long lain had ceased to beat forever. Miss C. W. Barber. JNoiE. "We have taken the liberty to omit some portions of this most interesting story, in order to bring it within the limits of our work. We trust the author will excuse us. Ed. Life among the Flowers. -^m. - @ @ 94 GENTILITY. GERANIUM. Pelargonium. Language GENTILITY. Harshly falls The doom upon tlie ear " She's not genteel ! " And pitiless is woman M^ho doth keep Of " good society " the golden key ! And gentlemen are bound, as are the stars, To stoop not after rising. Willis. But nature, with a matchless hand, sends forth her nobly born, And laughs the paltry attributes of rank and wealth to scorn ; She moulds with care a spirit rare, half human, half divine. And cries, exulting, " Who can make a gentleman like mine ? " There are some spirits nobly just, unwarped by pelf or pride. Great in the calm, and greater still when dashed by ad- verse tide ; They hold the rank no king can give, no station can disgrace ; Nature puts forth her gentleman, and monarchs must give place. (o) ( S) DESPONDENCY. 95 GERANIUM, DARK. Pelargonium Triste. Language DESPONDENCY. Thou who silently art weeping, Thou of faded lip and brow, Golden harvests for thy reaping Wave before thee even now. Fortune may be false and fickle Should you, therefore, pause and weep ? Taking in thy hand the sickle. Enter in the field and reap. Though the garden, famed Elysian, May be shut from thee by fate, Thou hast yet a holier mission Than to linger at the gate. Brightest visions from thy pillow ' May have vanished ; still thou'rt blest, While th^waves of time's rough billows Wash the shores of endless rest. Alice Caret. Sit down, sad soul, and count The moments flying: Come, tell the sad amount That's lost by sighing. How many smiles ? A score ? Then laugh and count no more, For day is dying! tenxtsox. - (Q) @: 96 PREFERENCE. GERANIUM, ROSE. Pelargonium Capitatum. Language PREFERENCE. Hp: says he loves my daughter ; I think so too ; for never gazed the moon Upon the water, as he'll stand and read, As 'twere my daughter's eyes : and to be plain, I think there is not half a kiss to choose, Who loves another best. SlIAKSPEAKE. Thy choice, gentle maiden ! 'Tis thine, thine alone : The leaflet dew laden, The sun-illumed stone ! The one is the offer Of power and pride. With gold in his coffer. And gems for his bride. The other, a token From passion and truth, The pure and unbroken, The love of thy youth. She falters though cruel, ^ The struggle is brief She clasps not the jewel The tear-laden leaf. Mrs. Osgood. @= CONSOLATION. : 97 (b^ GERANIUM, SCARLET. Pelargmiium Inquinans. Language CONSOLATION. Look how the gray old ocean From the depth of his heart rejoices, Heaving with a gentle motion, When he hears our restful voices ; List, how he sings in an undertone. Chiming with our melody ; And there, where the smooth, wet pebbles be. The waters gurgle longingly. As if they fain would seek the shore. To be at rest from the ceaseless roar, To be at rest for evermore. Thus on life's gloomy sea, Heareth the mariner Voices sweet from far and near. Ever singing in his ear, " Here is rest and peace for thee ! " J. R^LowELL The Sirens. There is no sunshine that hath not its shade. Nor shadow that the sunshine hath not made ; . There is no cherished comfort of the heart That doth not own its tearful counterpart. Thus, through a perfect balance, constant flow The sharp extremes of joy and those of woe ; Our sweetest, best repose results from strife. And death what is it, after all, but life ? ^ 98 RECALL. GERANIUM, SILVER-LEArED. Pelargonium Argentifolium, Language RECALL. O'er the far blue mountain, O'er the white sea foam, Come, thou long-parted one, Back to thy home. Where the bright fire shineth. Sad looks thy place, "While the true heart pineth, Missing thy face. Music is sorrowful Since thou art gone ; Sisters are mourning thee; Come to thy own. Hark ! the home voices call Back to thy rest ; Come to thy father's hall. Thy mother's breast. O'er the far blue mountain. O'er the white sea foam. Come, thou long-parted one, Back to thy home. Mrs. Hemans. # LIFE IS SWEET. 99 LIFE IS SWEET. It was a summer's morning. I was awakened by the rushing of a distant engine, bearing along a tide of men to their busy day in the great city. Cool sea breezes stole through the pine trees em- bowering my dwelling ; the aromatic pines breathed out their ready music ; the hummingbird was fluttering over the honeysuckle at my window ; the grass glittered with dewdrops. A maiden was coming from the dairy across the lawn, with a silver mug of new milk in her hand ; by the other hand she led a child. The young woman was in the full beauty of ripened and perfept womanhood. Her step was elastic and vigorous ; moderate labor had developed without impairing her fine person. I thought, " How sweet is life to this girl ! " as, respected and respecting, she sus- tains her place in domestic life, distilling her pure influences into the little creature she holds by the hand ! And how sweet, then, was life to that child ! Her little form was so erect and strong so firmly knit to outward life her step so free and joyous ! her fair, bright hair, so bright that it seemed as if a sunbeam came from it : it lay parted on that brow, where an infinite capacity had set its seal. And that spirited eye so quickly perceiving so eagerly exploring ! and those sweet red lips love, and laughter, and (g) 100 LIFE IS SWEET. beauty are there. Now she snatches a tuft of flowers from the grass ; now she springs to meet her playmate, the young, frisky dog; and now she is shouting playfully: he has knocked her over, and they are rolling on the turf together. Before three months passed away, she had laid down the beautiful garments of her mortality ; she had en- tered the gates of immortal life ; and those who followed her to its threshold felt that to the end, and in the end, her ministry had been most sweet. " Life is sweet " to the young, with their unfath- omable hopes their unlimited imaginings. It is sweeter still with the varied realization. Heaven has provided the ever-changing loveliness and mys- terious process of the outward world in the inspi- rations of art ; in the excitement of magnanimous deeds ; in the close knitting of affections ; in the joys of the mother, the toils and harvest of the father; in the countless blessings of hallowed domestic life. "Life is. sweet" to the seeker of wisdom, and to the lover of science ; and all progress and each discovery is a joy to them. " Life is sweet " to the true lovers of their race ; and the unknown and unpraised good they do by word, or look, or deed, is joy ineffable. But not alone to the wise, to the learned, to the young, to the healthful, to the gifted, to the happy, to the vigorous doer of good, is life sweet : for the patient sufferer it has a divine sweetness. @ @ @ @ LIFE IS SWEET. 101 " What," I asked a friend, who had been on a delicious country excursion, " did you see that best pleased you?" My friend has cultivated her love of moral more than her perception of physical beauty, and I was not surprised when, after replying, she went on to say, " My cousin took me to see a man who had been a clergyman in the Methodist connection. He had suffered from a nervous rheumatism, and from a complication of diseases, aggravated by ignorant drugging. Every muscle in his body, ex- cept those which move his eyes and tongue, is paralyzed. His body has become as rigid as iron. His limbs have lost the human form. He has not lain on a bed for seven years. He suffers acute pain. He has invented a chair which affords him some alleviation. His feelings are fresh and kind- ly, and his mind is unimpaired. He reads con- stantly. His book is fixed in a frame before him, and he manages to turn the leaves with an instrument which he moves with his tongue. He has an income of thirty dollars! This pit- tance, by the vigilant economy of his wife, and some aid from his kind rustic neighbors, bring the year round. His wife is the most gentle, patient, and devoted of loving nurses. She never has too much to do to do all well ; no wish or thought goes beyond the unvarying circle of her con- jugal duty. Her love is as abounding as his wants her cheerfulness as sure as the rising @ @ @ 102 ' LIFE IS SWEET. sun. She has not for years slept two hours con- secutively. " I did not know which most to reverence, his patience or hers ; and so 1 said to them. ' Ah,' said the good man, with a serene smile, ' life is still sweet to me ; how can it but be so with such a wife?'" And surely life is sweet to her who feels every hour of the day the truth of this gracious ac- knowledgment. O, ye who live amidst alternate sunshine and showers of plenty, to whom night brings sleep and daylight freshness ye murmurers and com- plainers who fret in the harness of life till it gall you to the bone who recoil at the lightest bur- den, and shrink from a passing cloud consider the magnanimous sufferer my friend described, and learn the divine art that can distil sweetness from the bitterest cup ! Miss Catharine M. Sedowick. @ @ =__=(o) HOPE. 103 HAWTHORN. i CratcBgus. Language HOPE. Her precious pearl, in sorrow's cup Unnoticed at the bottom lay, To shine again, when, all drunk up, The bitterness should pass away. MOOKK. A golden cage of sunbeams Half down a rainbow hung ; And sweet therein a golden bird The whole bright morning sung ! The winged shapes around it flew, Enchanted as they heard ; It was the bird of Hope, my love ; It was Hope's golden bird. And ever of to-morrow The siren song began ; Ah, what on earth so musical As hope and love to man ? I listened, thinking still of thee, And of thy promised word ; It was the bird of Hope, ray love ; It was Hope's golden bird. Avoir. @ @ 104 CALUMNY. HELLEBORE. HelM)orus JSTiger. Language CALUMNY. My dark-eyed darling, don't you know, If you were homely, cold, or stupid, Unbent for you were Slander's bow ? Ifer shafts but follo^ those of Cupid. Dear child of genius, strike the lyre, And drown with melody delicious. Soft answering to your touch of fire. The envious hint, the sneer malicious. Remember it is music's law, Each pure, true note, though low you sound it, Is heard through discord's wildest war Of rage and madness storming round it. Serenely go your glorious way, Secure that every footstep onward Will lead you from their haunts away, Since you go up, and they go dowjiward. Mes. Osgood. I know that slander loves a lofty mark ; It saw her soar a flight above her fellows. And hurled its arrow to her glorious height, To reach as high, and bring her to the ground. Miss H. Moke. = DEVOTION. 105 HELIOTROPE. Heliotropium, Language DEVOTION. You took me, William, when a girl, Unto your home and heart. To bear in all your after fate A fond and faithful part : And tell me, have I ever tried That duty to forego.'' Or wis there ever joy for me When you were sunk in woe ? No : I would rather share i/our tear Than any other's glee ; For though you're nothing to the world, You're all the world to me. Airoir. Nay, do not ask entreat not no, O no, I will not leave thy side ; Whither thou goest, I will go, Where thou abidest, I'll abide. Through life in death my soul to thine Shall cleave as first it clave ; Thy home, thy people shall be mine. Thy God my God, thy grave my grave. K. H. Wild. Adah. Alas! thou sinnest now, my Cain ; thy words Sound impious in mine ears. Cain. Then leave me ! Adah. Never, Though thy God left thee. btbon's caik. _ @ ' @ - @ 106 SHORT-LIVED BEAUTY. HIBISCUS. Hibiscus Vesicarius. Language SHORT-LIVED BEAUTY. Go, lovely rose, Tell her that wastes her time on me. That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee. How sweet and fair she seems to be. Then die, that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee ; How small a part of time they share. That are so wondrous sweet and fair. Yet, though thou fade, From thy dead leaves let fragrance rise, And teach the maid That goodness time's rude hand defies ; That virtue lives when beauty dies. Wallek. Beautiful ! Yes ; but the blush will fade. The light grow dim which the blue eyes wear. The gloss will vanish from curl and braid. And the sunbeam die in the waving hair. Turn, turn from the mirror, and strive to win Treasures of loveliness still to last ; Gather earth's glory and bloom within. That the soul may be bright when youth is past. Mrs. Osgood. @ - @ FIDELITY. 107 HONEYSUCKLE. Lonicera. Language FIDELITY. Be true to me ! Be as the star that burns Calm and unchanged in the midnight air, When unto thee my wearied spirit turns For sweet repose from all the storms of care : Be true to me ! Be true to me ! Not always may the bloom Of hope and gladness on my cheeks remain ; And when dark thoughts shall shade my soul with gloom, Thy tender accents still may soothe its pain : Be true to me ! Akos ANSWER. I do not promise that our life Shall know no shade on heart or brow ; For human lot and mortal strife "Would mock the falsehood of such vow. But when the clouds of pain and care Shall teach us we are not divine, My deepest sorrows thou shalt share, And I will strive to lighten thine. Eliza Cook. If we love one another, \ Nothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever Mischances may happen. lokofkllow. 108 INCONSTANCY. HONEYSUCKLE, WILD. . Azalea Procumbens, Language INCONSTANCY. Inconstant ! are the waters so, That fall in showers on hill and plain, Then, tired of what they find below, Ride on the sunbeams back again ? Pray, are there changes in the sky. The winds, or in our summer weather ? In sudden change believe me, I Will beat both clouds and winds together : Nothing in air or earth may be Fit type of my inconstancy. Anow. My heart too firmly trusted, fondly gave Itself to all its tenderness a slave ; I had no wish but thee, and only thee : I knew no happiness but only while Thy love-lit eyes were kindly turned on me. i Pebcival. Holy St. Francis ! what a change is here ! Is Rosalind, whom thou dost hold so dear, So soon forsaken ? Young men's love, then, lies Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. Shakspeake. @ HEARTLESSNESS. 109 HYDRANGEA. Hydrangea Hortensis. Language HEAKTLESSNESS. With every pleasing, every prudent part, Say, what can Chloe want ? She wants a heart. She speaks, behaves, and acts just as she ought, But never, never reached one generous thought ; Virtue she finds too painful an endeavor, Content to dwell in decencies forever. So very reasonable, so unmoved, As never yet to love, or to be loved. Pops. I live among the cold, the false, And I must seem like them ; And such I am, for I am false As these I most condemn : I teach my lip its sweetest smile. My tongue its softest tone ; I borrow others' likeness, till I almost lose my own. On thy forehead sitteth Pride, Crowned with scorn, and falcon-eyed ; But beneath, methinks, thou twinest Silken smiles that seem divinest. Can such smiles be false and cold ? Canst thou wilt thou wed for gold ? BABET COBKWALt. @ @ 110 A NEW year's colloquy WITH TIME. A NEW YEAR'S COLLOQUY WITH TIME. Eleven o'clock at night! But another hour, and all that remains of the present year will have been borne upon the tireless wing of Father Time into the great gulf of eternity ; and the old fellow will have turned up his glass again, ground his scythe, and laid hold of the new year ; prepared to roll it onward, evolving the future from the lapse of every moment, until he shall see it safely deposited in the great grave of the past, which swallows all things. *' Thou art a jolly old fellow. Father Time ! Give us thy hand, and ere the bright sun of the first morning of the new year shines cheerfully over the grave of its departed brother, let us be a little sociable, and talk of the past. Do not be crusty ; you need not stop in your onward march. I myself am somewhat of a traveller, and will walk an hour with you; only keep that con- founded old scythe out of the way, which, since I first saw it pictured upon the cover of the Farmer's Almanac, along with the matter-of-fact couplet, Time cuts down all, Both great and small," I nevef could look at without shuddering. "Thou hast visited all countries and all climes ; thou hast been in strange lands, and beheld many @ @ @ A NEW year's colloquy WITH TIME. Ill strange and wondrous things ; thou hast kept on thy way untiring hast passed over the great city, and left messages of joy or sorrow to millions of the sons of men. Thou hast frosted the heads of the aged, cut down beauty in its bloom, and blighted earth's fairest flowers. Thou hast brought poverty into the dwellings of affluence ; thou hast by thy movements brought distrust into friendly bosoms, and thou hast separated families. Thou hast brought about the utterance of the first unkind word between those who had promised to love each other ever ; thou hast led the youth onward to his first act of wickedness and sin, and the maiden rashly to forsake the dwelling of her childhood the merchant to the verge of bank- ruptcy, and from thence to ruin, and to death ; thou hast plunged the man of crime still deeper into the abyss of iniquity caused children to weep over the death of their parents, and parents for the departure of their children. Thou hast done all these things, old Time ; and novvr, what canst thou say for thyself? Hast done any good, old fellow ? any thing for which we shall commend thee, or which shoLild make us hail thy presence with gladness ? " " Mortal, listen I " said Time. " God is good, and to perform his will am I sent to the earth. 'Tis to work out the designs of his good provi- dence, that I wend my way hither and thither over this little globe of yours. True, I have frosted 112 A NEW year's colloquy WITH TIME. the heads of the aged, but the aged good man fears not Time. He who has spent his whole life in deeds of active benevolence and kindness, ben- efiting his fellow-men, knows that his gray hairs are a crown of honor, and that it becomes him, even as the crown which he shall wear in paradise as a reward for a life of righteousness here. True, I have cut down beauty in its bloom ; but for what, think you ? to gratify a malignant spirit ? O, no ! there are mortals here who_seem all too good to be the inhabitants of such a dwelling-place as this earth, and I have but translated th^m to a brighter land, where the spirits of the pure and good the just made perfect will forever dwell. " I have blasted the loveliest flowers, say you ? Not so. In the gardens of paradise they bloom again with more than their earthly freshness and beauty. Purity and goodness should not be scat- tered upon the cold winds of ingratitude and wrong, without a shelter, and without a fitting home : of such is composed the kingdom of heaven ; and nurtured by its dews, and warmed by the smiles which beam from the throne of mer- cy, they grow and expand until they become like the angelic beings they so much resemble. " I have brought poverty into the dwellings of affluence, but to serve a good end. To the rich man, who loved his gold better than his God, I have taught a lesson ; I have shown him the frailty of human hopes, and the instability of (o) @ A NEW year's colloquy WITH TIME. 113 human things. In the low-roofed cottage has the poor man found that happiness and peace of mind which passeth all understanding, which he sought in vain to find amid the glitter of wealth and the pride of station. Hast thou not read that it is easier for a camel to enter a needle's eye than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven ? and blamest thou me that I have stripped him of the vile clogs that weigh down his immortal spirit to the earth ? " Thou sayest that I have brought distrust into friendly bosoms ; that I have separated families, and caused unkind words to be spoken. Look at the bright side of the picture : alas for your hu- man nature ! which, since the days of your good mother Eve, has delighted to place the burden upon the wrong shoulders. Think how my soft- ening touch has quieted old feuds, and silenced old animosities, forever. Think how my old fin- gers have rubbed away long scores of hate and ingratitude ; how I have warmed hearts callous to all feelings of affection, and caused them to glow again with the fires of friendship and love. I have led the x^^^^ onward to wickedness and crime, and the maiden rashly to forsake the home of her childhood ; but think how many I have brought to see the evil of their ways, and turned from the path which leads to perdition. Think how many youthful hearts are made wise unto salvation by bitter experience, and how many - - @ @ @j 114 A NEW year's colloquy WITH TIME. repentant erring ones are seeking at the only place for forgiveness, and atoning for the past by a life of rectitude and virtue. '' Think, too, while ye would seek cause to com- plain of me, how little ye know : think of all the gladness and joy which I bring to men's hearts. Children are born into the world, and O, what an inexpressible flood of delight rushes through the parent's heart, as he traces in imagination the dim, distant future ! and how are his days and nights filled with blissful hopes of seeing them live and grow up around him, to cheer and to bless his later years ! If I draw wrinkles upon the brow of age, I cause the roses to bloom brighter upon beauty's cheek. If I destroy, I also make alive. If I brush into oblivion some records of the past, I go with the man who searcheth after knowledge, and from my age and experience, his own soul is ex- panded, and he becomes a blessing to his race." Just so far had Time spoken when the clock struck twelve ; and with the determination to profit by his teachings, I wished him a Happy New Year, and fell asleep. j^^^^^^ ^1=^ d =@ @ @ FRIGIDITY. 115 ICE PLANT. Mesembryanthemum. Language FRIGIDITY. Thy beauty not a fault is there ; No queen of Grecian line E'er braided more luxuriant hair O'er forehead more divine ; The light of midnight's starry heaven Is in those radiant eyes ; The rose's crimson life has given That cheek its glowing dyes ; And yet I love thee not : thy brow Is but the sculptor's mould : It wants a shade ; it wants a glow ; It is less fair than cold. Miss Landoit. And underneath that face, like summer's oceans, Its lip as moveless, and its cheek as clear, Slumbers a whirlwind of the heart's emotions Love, hatred, pride, hope, sorrow all save fear. Better the tie at once be broken, At once our last farewell be spoken, Than watch him, one by one destroy The glowing buds of hope and joy Than thus to see them, day by day. Beneath his coldness fade away. Mbs. Osgood. @ =^^ @ @ I 116 FRIENDSHIP. I IVY. Hedera. Language ERIENDSHIP. Friendship! mysterious cement of the soul ! Sweetener of life, and solder of society ! I owe thee much. Thou hast deserved of me Far, far beyond what I can ever pay. Oft have I proved the labors of thy love, And the warm eflforts of a gentle heart. Anxious to please. Blais. What though on Love's altar the flame that is glowing Is brighter ? yet Friendship's is steadier far ! One wavers and turns with each breeze that is blowing, And is but a meteor the other 's a star ! In youth Love's light Burns warm and bright. But dies ere the winter of age be past ; While Friendship's flame Burns ever the same, And glows but the brighter, the nearer its last ! O, let mi/ friendship in the wreath. Though but a bud among the flowers, Its sweetest fragrance round thee breathe 'Twill serve to soothe thy weary hours. Mbs. Wblbt. = & AMIABILITY. ^@ 117 JASMINE. Jasminum. Language AMIABILITY. The blessings of her quiet life Fell on us like the dew ; And good thoughts, where her footstep pressed, Like fair J blossoms grew. Sweet promptings unto kindest deeds Were in her very look ; We read her face as one who reads A true and holy book. \ The pleasure of a blessed hymn To which our hearts could move. The breathing of an inward psalm, A canticle of love. And we talked 0, how we talked ! her voice, so cadenced in the talking, Made another singing of the soul! a music without bars While the leafy sounds of woodlands, humming round where we were walking, Brought interposition worthy sweet as skies about the stars. And she spake such good thoughts natural, as if she al- ways thought them. Miss Baeeett. -- ^@ @ 118 EXCELLENCE. JAPONICA. Japonica Alba. Language EXCELLENCE. View them near At home, where all their worth and power is placed And there their hospitable fires burn clear, And there the lowest farm-house hearth is graced With manly hearts in piety sincere ; Faithful in love, in honor stern and chaste. In friendship warm and true, in danger brave. Beloved in life, and sainted in the grave. Halleck. What, my soul, was thy errand here ? Was it mirth, or ease. Or heaping up dust from year to year ? " Nay, none of these ! " Speak, soul, aright, in His holy sight Whose eye looks still And steadily on thee through the night : To do His will ! " Whittikb. A life of honor and of worth Has no eternity on earth ; 'Tis but a name And yet its glory far exceeds That base and sensual life which leads To want and shame. LOjrOFELLOW. - (o) IS MY AFFECTION RETURNED. 119 JONQUIL. JYardssus Jonquilla. Language IS MY AFFECTION RETURNED? LADY, there be many things That seem right fair above ; But sure not one among them all Is half so sweet as love : Let us not pay our vows alone, But join two altars into one. O. W. Holmes. And canst thou not accord thy heart In unison with mine ? AVhose language thou alone hast heard Thou only canst divine. EuFus Damtes. 'Twas then the blush suffused her cheek, Which told what words could never speak ; The answer's written deeply now On this warm cheek and glowing brow. L. M. Davidson. And had he not long read The heart's hushed secret, in the soft dark eye Lighted at his approach, and on the cheek. Coloring all crimson at his lightest look ? L. E, Landox. ^ @ (5) 120 THE BROKEN HEART. THE BROKEN HEART. ' " I never heard Of any true affection, but 'twas nipped With care, that, like the caterpillar, eats The leaves of the spring's sweetest book, the rose." Middleton. It is a common practice with those who have outlived the susceptibility of early feeling, or have been brought up in the gay heartlessness of dissi- pated life, to laugh at all love stories, and to treat the tales of romantic passion as mere fictions of novelists and poets. My observations on human nature have induced me to think otherwise. They have convinced me that however the surface of character may be chilled and frozen by the cares of the world, or cultivated into mere smiles by the arts of society, still there are dormant fires lurking in the depths of the coldest bosom, which, when once enkindled, become impetuous, and are sometimes desolating in their effects. Indeed, I am a true believer in the blind deity, and go to the full extent of his doctrines. Shall I confess it? I believe in broken hearts, and the possibility of dying of disappointed love. I do not, however, consider it a malady often fatal to my own sex ; but I firmly believe that it withers down many a lovely woman into an early grave. Man is the creature of interest and ambition. His nature leads him forth into the struggle and =@ THE BROKEN HEART. 121 bustle of the world. Love is but the embellish- ment of his earFy life, or a song piped in the inter- vals df the acts. He seeks for fame, for fortune, for space in the world's thought, and domination over his fellow-men. But a woman's whole life is a history of the affections. The heart is her world; it is there her avarice seeks for hidden treasures. She sends forth her sympathies on ad- venture ; she embarks her whole soul in the traffic of affection, and if shipwrecked her case is hope- less for it is a bankruptcy of the heart. To a man the disappointment of love may oc- casion some bitter pangs ; it wounds some feel- ings of tenderness it blasts some prospects of felicity ; but he is an active being ^ he may dissi- pate his thoughts in the whirl of varied occupa- tion, or may plunge into the tide of pleasure ; or, if the scene of disappointment be too full of pain- ful associations, he can shift his abode at will, and taking as it were the wings of the morning, can "fly to the uttermost parts of the earth, and be at rest." But a woman's is comparatively a fixed, a seclud- ed, and a meditative life. She is more the com- panion of her own thoughts and feelings ; and if they are turned to ministers of sorrow, where shall she look for consolation ? Her lot is to be wooed and won ; and if unhappy in her love, her heart is like some fortress that has been captured, and sacked, and abandoned, and left desolate. How many bright eyes grow dim, how many @ =() (5) =@ 122 THE BROKEN HEART. soft cheeks grow pale, how many lovety forms fade away into the tomb, and none can tell the cause that blighted their loveliness ! As the dove will clasp its wings to its sides, and cover and conceal the arrow that is preying on its vitals, so it is the nature of women to hide from the world the pangs of wounded affection. The love of a delicate female is always shy and silent. Even when fortunate, she scarcely breathes it to herself; but when otherwise, she buries it in the deep recesses of her bosom, and there lets it cower and brood among the ruins of her peace. With her the desire of her heart has failed. The great charm of existence is at an end. She neglects all the cheerful exercises which gladden the spirits, quicken the pulses, and send the tide of life in healthful currents through the veins. Her rest is broken the sweet refreshment of sleep is poi- soned by melancholy dreams " dry sorrow drinks her blood," until her enfeebled frame sinks under the slightest injury. Look for her after a while, and you will find friendship over her untimely grave, and wondering that one who but lately glowed with all the radiance of health and beauty should so easily be brought down to " darkness and the worm." You will be told of some wintry chill, some casual indisposition, that laid her low ; but no one knows of the mental malady that pre- viously sapped her strength, and made her so easy a prey to the spoiler. (5) (o) THE BROKEN HEART. 123 She is like some tender tree, the pride and beauty of the grove ; graceful in its form, bright in its foliage, but with the worm preying at its heart. We find it suddenly withering, when it should be most fresh and luxuriant. We see it dropping its branches to the earth, and shedding leaf by leaf, until, wasted and perished away, it falls even in the stillness of the forest ; and as we muse over the beautiful ruin, we strive in vain to collect the blast or thunderbolt that could have smitten it with decay. I have seen many instances of women running to waste and self-neglect, and disappearing gradu- ally from the earth, almost as if they had been ex- alted to heaven ; and have repeatedly fancied that I could trace their death through the various de- clensions of consumption, cold, debility, languor, melancholy, until I reached the first symptom of disappointed love. But an instance of the kind was lately told to me ; the circumstances are well known in the country where they happened, and I shall give them in the manner in which they were related. Every one must recollect the tragical story of young E , the Irish patriot ; it was too touch- ing to be soon forgotten. During the troubles in Ireland, he was tried, condemned, and executed, on a charge of treason. His fate made a deep irn- pression on public sympathy. He was so young - so intelligent so generous so brave so @ 124 THE BROKEN HEART. every thing we are apt to like in a young man ! His conduct under trial, too, was so lofty and in- trepid. The noble indignation with which he re- pelled the charges of treason against his country the eloquent vindication of his name and his pathetic appeal to posterity in the hopeless hour of condemnation all these entered deeply into every generous bosom, and even his enemies la- mented the stern policy that dictated his execu- tion. But there was one heart whose anguish it would be impossible to describe. In happier days and fairer fortunes, he had won the affections of a beautiful and interesting girl, the daughter of a late Irish barrister. She loved him with the disin- terested fervor of a woman's first and early love. When every worldly maxim arrayed itself against him, when blasted in fortune, and disgrace and danger darkened around his name, she loved him the more ardently for his sufferings. If, then, his fate could awaken the sympathy even of his foes, what must have been the agony of her whose whole soul was occupied by his image ! Let those tell who have the portals of the tomb suddenly closed between them and the being they most loved on earth who have sat at its threshold, as one shut out in a cold and lonely world, from whence all that was most lovely and loving had departed. But the horrors of such a grave ! so frightful, so dishonored I There was nothing for memory to = THE BROKEN HEART. 125 dwell on that could soothe the pang of separation none of those tender, though melancholy, ciar- cumstances that endear the parting scene noth- ing to melt sorrow into those blessed tears, sent, like the dews of heaven, to revive the heart in the parting hour of anguish. To render her widowed situation more desolate, she had incurred her father's displeasure by the unfortunate attachment, and was an exile from the parental roof. But could the sympathy and kind offices of friends have reached a spirit so shocked and driven in by horror, she would have experi- enced no want of consolation, for the Irish are a people of quick and generous sensibilities. The most delicate attentions were paid her by families of wealth and distinction. She was led into soci- ety, and tried all kinds of occupation and amuse- ment to dissipate her grief, and wean her from the tragical story of her lover. But it was all in vain. There are some strokes of calamity that scath and scorch the soul that penetrate to the vital seat of happiness, and blast it, never again to put forth bud or blossom. She never objected to frequent the haunts of pleasure, but she was as much alone tl\ere as in the depths of solitude. She walked about in sad revery, apparently un- conscious of the world around her. She carried within her an inward woe that mocked all the blandishments of friendship, and " heeded not the song of the charmer, charm he never so wisely." =@ 126 THE BROKEN HEART. The person who told me her story had seen her at a masquerade. There can be no exhibition of far-gone wretchedness more striking and painful than to meet it in such a scene to find it wan- dering like a spectre, lonely and joyless, where all around is gay to see it dressed out in trappings of mirth, and looking so wan and woe-begone, as if it had tried in vain to cheat the poor heart into a momentary forgetfulness of sorrow. After stroll- ing through the splendid rooms and giddy crowd, with an air of utter abstraction, she sat herself down on the steps of the orchestra, and looking about for some time with a vacant air, that showed her insensibility to the gairish scene, she began, with the capriciousness of a'sickly heart, to warble a little plaintive air. She had an exquisite voice ; but on this occasion it was so simple, so touching, it breathed forth such a soul of wretch- edness, that she drew a crowd mute and silent around her, and melted every one into tears. The story of one so true and tender could not but excite great interest in a country so remarka- ble for enthusiasm. It completely won the heart of a brave officer, who paid his addresses to her, and thought that one so true to. the dead could not but prove affectionate to the living. She de- clined his attentions, for her thoughts were irrev- ocably engrossed by the memory of her former lover. He, however, persisted in his suit. He so- licited, not her tenderness, but her esteem. He ' THE BROKEN HEART. 127 was assisted by her conviction of his worth, and her sense of her own destitute and dependent sit- uation, for she was existing on the kindness of friends. In a word, he at length succeeded in gaining her hand, though with the assurance that her heart was unalterably another's. He took her with him to Sicily, hoping that a change of scene might wear out the remembrance of early woes. She was an amiable and exempla- ry wife, and made an effort to be a happy one ; but nothing could cure the silent and devouring melancholy that had entered into her very soul. She wasted in a slow and hopeless decline, and at length sunk into the grave, the victim of a broken heart. It was on her that Moore, the distinguished Irish poet, composed the following lines: She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps, And lovers around her are sighing ; But coldly she turns from their gaze and weeps, For her heart in his grave is lying. lie had lived for his love for his country he died ; They were all that to life had entwined him ; Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried, Nor long will his love stay behind him ! O, make her a gi-ave where the sunbeams rest, When they promise a glorious morrow ; They'll shine o'er her sleep like a smile from the west, From her own loved island of sorrow I w. ibvino. ' ' @ 128 PENSIVENESS. LABURNUM. Cytisus. Language PENSIVENESS. A GENTLE maiden, whose large loving eyes Enshrine a tender, melancholy light, Like the soft radiance of the starry skies, Or autumn sunshine, mellowed when most bright ; She is not sad, yet in her gaze appears Something that makes the gazer think of tears. Mrs. Emburt. A soul, too, more than half divine. Where, through some shades of earthly feeling, Religion's softened glories shine, Like light through summer foliage stealing. Shedding a glow of such mild hue, So warm, and yet so shadowy too, As makes the very darkness there . More beautiful than light elsewhere ! MOOEE. Few know that elegance' of soul refined, Whose soft sensation feels a quicker joy From melancholy's scenes, than the dull pride Of tasteless splendor and magnificence Can e'er afford. Wabtoit. @ - = FORGET ME NOT. 129 LADIES' DELIGHT. Viola Tricolor. Language FORGET ME NOT. I HEARD thy low-whispered farewell, love, And silently saw thee depart ; Ay, silent ; for how could words tell, love. The sorrow that swelled in my heart ? They could not, language is faint When passion's devotion would speak ; Light pleasure and pain it may paint ; But with feelings like ours it is weak. Yet tearless and mute though I stood, love. Thy last words are thrilling me yet, And my heart would have breathed, if it could, love. And murmured, " 0, do not forget ! " Mss. Osgood. ANSW^ER. To me, through every season, dearest. In every scene, by day and night. Thou present to my mind appearest, A quenchless star, forever bright ! My solitary, sole delight ! Alone in grove by shore at sea I think of thee ! . M. Mois. = @ 130 CAPRICIOUSNESS. LADIES' SLIPPER. Cypripedium. Language CAPRICIOUSNESS. I CANNOT love liim : Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble ; Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth ; In voices well divulged, free, learned, and valiant, And in dimensions, and the shape of nature, A gracious person ; but yet I cannot love him. He might have took his answer long ago. SlIAKSPEAEE. But who can tell what cause had that fair maid To use him so, that loved her so well ? Or who with blame can justly her upbraid For loving not ? for who can love compel ? And sooth to say, it is foolhardy thing Rashly to whiten creatures so divine ; For demigods they be, and first did spring From heaven, though graft in frailness feminine. Spenser. It is not virtue, wisdom, valor, wit, Strength, comeliness of shape, or amplest merit, That woman's love can win ; J5ut what is, hard it is to say, harder to hit. Milton. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind ; And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. SnAKSPEARE. - @ FICKLENESS. 131 LAUKSPUR. Delphinium. Language FICKLENESS. Farewell ! 'tis mine to prove Of blighted hopes the pain ; But 0, believe I cannot love As I have loved again ! Farewell ! 'ti^ thine to change, Forget, be false, be free ; But know, wherever thou shalt range. That none can love like me ! TUPPEK. Did woman's charms thy youth beguile, And did the fair one faithless prove ? Hath she betrayed thee with her smile. And sold thy love ? Live ! 'twas a false, bewildering fire ; Too often love's insidious dart Thrills the fond soul with wild desire, But kills the heart. Thou yet shalt know how sweet, how dear To gaze on listening beauty's eye ; To ask, and pause in hope and fear Till she reply. A nobler flame shall warm thy breast, A brighter maiden faithful prove ; Thy youth, thy age, shall yet be blest In woman's love. montoomeky. - -=:: @ '-() I 132 FAME. LAUREL. Rhododendron. Language FAME. Ques. What shall I do, lest life in silence pass ? Ans. And if it do, And never prompt the bray of noisy brass, What need'st thou rue ? Remember aye the ocean deeps are mute, The shallows roar : Worth is the ocean ; fame is but the bruit Along the shore. Qiies. What shall I do to be forever known ? A71S. Thy duty ever. Ques. This did full many who yet sleep unknown. Ans. 0, never, never. Think'st thou, perchance, that they remain un- known Whom thou know'st not ? By angel trumps in heaven their praise is blown : Divine their lot. Ques. What shall I do to have eternal life ? Ans. Discharge aright The simple dues with which the day is rife Yea, with thy might. Ere perfect sphere of action thou devise Will life be fled ; While he who ever acts as conscience cries Shall live, though dead, pq^ms of youth. @ @ =@ ACKNOWLEDGMENT. 133 LAVENDER. Lavandula Spicata. Language ACKNOWLEDGMENT. Thinkest thou That I could live, and let thee go, Who art my life itself? No, no. ^ Moore. I would be thine ! My world in thee to centre, With all its hopes, cares, fears, and loving thought; No wish beyond the home where thou shouldst enter Ever anew to find thy presence brought My life's best joy. I would be thine ! Not passion's wild emotion To show thee, fitful as the changing wind, But with a still, deep, fervent life-devotion, To be to thee the helpmeet God designed : For this would I be thine ! Anon. Forever thine, whate'er this world betide, In youth, in age, thine own, forever thine. A. A Waits. =@ 134 FIRST EMOTIONS OF LOVE. LILAC. Syringa. Language EIRST EMOTIONS OF LOVE. Our love came as ilie early dew Comes unto drooping flowers ; Dropping its first sweet freshness on Our life's dull, lonely hours. As each pale blossom lifts its head Revived with blessings nightly shed By summer breeze and dew, O, thus our spirits rose beneath Love's gentle dews and living breath, To drink of life anew ! Mks. Nichols. O, precious is the flower that passion brings To his first shrine of beauty, when the heart Runs over in devotion, and no art Checks the free gush of the wild lay he sings ; But the rapt eye, and the impetuous thought Declare the pure affection. SIMMS. 0, the days are gone when beauty bright My keart chain wove ; When my dream of life, from morn till night, Was love, still love ! New hope may bloom, and days may come Of milder, calmer beam. But there's nothing half so sweet in life As love's young dream. Moose. @ @ @ UNNOTICED AFFECTION. 13o LILY OF THE VALLEY. Convaltaria. Language UNNOTICED AFFECTION. He came too late ! neglect had tried Her constancy too long ; Her love had yielded to her pride, And the deep sense of wrong. She scorned the offering of a heart That lingered on its way, Till it would no delight impart, Nor spread one cheering ray. E. BOOAET. 0, no ! my heart can never be Again in lightest hopes the same ; The love that lingers there for thee Hath more of ashes than of flame. Miss Landon. Unhappy he, who lets a tender heart, Bound to him by the ties of earliest love, Fall from him by his own neglect, and die. Because it met no kindness. Pekcival. Wilt thou sit among the ruins, With all words of cheer unspoken. Till the silver cord is loosened. Till the golden bow} is broken ? A. C. Lynch. () ^ == ' @ j 136 PURITY AND MODESTY. LILY, WHITE. Lilium Candidum. Language PURITY AND MODESTY. Where may the bright flower be met That can match with Magaret Margaret, stately, staid, and good, Growing up to womanhood ; Loving, thoughtful, wise, and kind. Pure in heart and strong in mind ? Eyes deep blue, as is the sky When the full moon sails on high. Eyebrow true and forehead fair, And dark, richly-braided hair. And a queenly head, well set, Crown my maiden Margaret. Where's the flower that thou canst find Match for her in form and mind ? Fair white lilies, having birth In their native genial earth These, in scent and queenly grace. Match thy maiden's form and face ! howitt. @ =@ AFFECTION BEYOND THE GRAVE. 137 \ LOCUST. Robinia Car agar a. Lang UAGE AFFECTION BEYOND THE GRAVE. Years, years have fled, since, hushed in thy last slumber, They laid thee down beneath the old elm tree : But with a patient heart each day I number, Because it brings me nearer still to thee. Thou wert life's angel : how I loved, adored thee. Ere death had set thy gentle spirit free ! And now thou know'st how oft I have implored thee To bring me nearer, nearer still to thee. Nearer to thee ! To-night the stars are burning In skies that must thy blessed dwelling be : Thou canst not leave them, unto earth returning ; But I am pressing nearer still to thee. Nearer to thee ! I know my prayer is granted ; I know- thjr spirit now is close to me : No, not in vain this hope my heart hath haunted : Each pulsebeat brings me nearer, nearer thee. Wm. B. Glazier. Let me, then let me dream That love goes with us to the shore unknown ; So o'er the burning tear a heavenly gleam In mercy shall be thrown. Mrs. Hemaxs. @ @ = 138 ESTRANGEMENT. :@ LOTUS. Lotos, Language ESTRANGEMENT. Alas ! how light a cause may move Dissension between hearts that love ! Hearts that the world in vain has tried, And sorrow but more closely tied ; That stood the storm when waves were rough, Yet in a sunny hour fall o'iF, Like ships that have gone down at sea, When heaven was all tranquillity ! A something light as air a look A word unkind, or wrongly taken ; O, love that tempests never shook, A breath, a touch, like this hath broken. Moore. O ye, who, meeting, sigh to part, Whose words are treasures to some heart, Deal gently, ere the dark days come When earth hath but for one a home ; Lest, musing o'er the past, like me, They feel their hearts wrung bitterly ; And, heeding not what else is heard, Dwell weeping on a careless word. Mks. Noetox. (& :(Ol (o) PERPLEXITY. 139 LOVE IN A MIST. Language PERPLEXITY. When I was a wee little slip of a girl, Too artless and young for a prude, The men, as I passed, would exclaim, " Pretty dear ! Which, I must say, I thought rather rude ; Rather rude, so I did ; Which, I must say, I thought rather rude. However, thought I, when I'm once in my teens, They'd sure cease to worry me then ; But as I grew older, so they grew the bolder Such impudent things are the men ; Are the men, are the men ; ^ Such impudent things are the men. But of all the bold things I could ever suppose Yet how could I take it amiss ? Was that of my impudent cousin last night, When he actually gave me a kiss ! Ay, a kiss, so he did ! When he actually gave me a kiss ! I quickly reproved him ; but ah, in such tones, That, ere we were half through the glen. My anger to smother, he gave me another Such strange, coaxing things are the men ; Are the men, are the men ; Such stranore, coaxing thinojs are the men. :@ @ 140 HOPELESS, NOT HEARTLESS. LOVE LIES BLEEDING. AmaranthiLS. Language HOPELESS, NOT HEARTLESS. She loves him yet ! The flower the false one gave her, When last he came. Is still with her wild tears wet. She'll ne'er forget, Howe'er his faith may waver ; Through grief and shame Believe it she loves him yet! Mrs. Osgood. Full many a miserable year hath passed She knows him as one dead, or worse than dead ; And many a change her varied life hath known, But her heart none. Maturix. No thought within her bosom stirs. But wakes some feeling dark and dread ; God keep thee from a doom like hers, Of living when the hopes are dead. PnOiBE Carey. And now farewell ! farewell ! I dare not lengthen Those sweet, sad moments out : to gaze on thee Is bliss indeed ; yet it but serves to strengthen The love that now amounts to agony ; This is our last farewell. / Mrs. Welby. @ - ==<) MY fortune's made. 141 MY FORTUNE'S MADE. My young friend, Cora Lee, was a gay, dashing girl, fond of dress, and looking always as if, to use a homely saying, just out of the bandbox. Cora was a belle, of course, and had many ad- mirers. Among the number of these was a young man named Edward Douglass, who was the very " pink " of neatness in all matters pertaining to dress, and exceedingly particular in his observance of the little proprieties of life. I saw from the first that, if Douglass pressed his suit, Cora's heart w'ould be an easy conquest ; and so it proved. " How admirably they are fitted for each other!" I remarked to my husband on the night of the wedding. " Their tastes are similar, and their habits are so much alike that no violence will be done to the feelings of either, in the more intimate associations that marriage brings. Both are neat in person, and orderly by instinct, and both have good principles." " From all present appearances, the match will be a good one," replied my husband. There was, I thought, somethj^g like reservation in his tone. " Do you really think so ? " I said, a little iron- ically ; for Mr. Smith's approval of the marriage was hardly warm enough to suit my fancy. " O, certainly ! Why not?" he replied. 142 MY fortune's made. I felt a little fretted at my husband's mode of speaking, but made no further remarks on the subject. He is never very enthusiastic or san- guine, and did not mean, in this instance, to doubt the fitness of the parties for happiness in the marriage state, as I half imagined. For myself, I warmly approved my friend's choice, and called her husband a lucky man to secure for his com- panion through life a woman so admirably fit- ted to make one like him happy. But a visit which I paid to Cora, one day, about six weeks after the honeymoon had expired, lessened my en- thusiasm on the subject, and awoke some unpleas- ant doubts. It happened that I called soon after breakfast. Cora met me in the parlor, looking like a very fright. She wore a soiled and rumpled morning wrapper, her hair was in papers, and she had on dirty stockings, and a pair of slippers down at the heels. " Bless me, Cora," said I. " What is the mat- ter ? Have you been, sick ? " " No. Why do you ask ? Is my dishabille on the extreme ? " " Candidly, I think it is, Cora," was^ my frank answer. " O, well ! No matter,'^ she carelessly replied, " my fortune's made." " I don't clearly understand you," said I. " I'm married, you know." " Yes, I am aware of that fact." MY fortune's made. 143 ' No need of being so particular in dress now." "Why not?" " Didn't I just say ? " replied Cora. " My for- tuQe's made. I've got a husband." Beneath an air of jesting was apparent the real earnestness of my friend. " You dressed with a careful regard to taste and neatness in order to win Edward's love ! " said I. " Certainly I did." " And should you not do the same in order to retain it ? " " Why, Mrs. Smith ! Do you think my hus- band's affection goes no deeper than my dress ? I should be very sorry indeed to own that. He loves me for myself." " No doubt of that in the world, Cora. But re- member that he cannot see what is in your mind except by what you do or say. If he admires yoar taste, for instance, it is not from any abstract appreciation of it, but because the taste manifests itself in what you do. And depend upon it he will find it a very hard matter to approve and ad- mire your correct taste in dress, for instance, when ^ou appear before him day after day, in your pres- ent unattractive attire. If you do not dress well for your husband's eyes, for whose eyes, pray, do you dress ? You are as neat when abroad as you were before your marriage." "As to that, Mrs. Smith, common decency re- quires me to dress well when I go upon the street, (o) (O) 144 MY fortune's mat>e. or into company, to say nothing of the pride one naturally feels in looking well." " And does not the same decency and natural pride argue as strongly in favor of your dressing well at home, and for the eye of your husband, as the approval and admiration of the whole world?" " But he doesn't want to see me rigged out in silks and satins all the time. A pretty bill my dressmaker would have against him in that event. Edward has more sense than that, I flatter my- self." " Street or ball-room attire is one thing, Cora, and becoming home apparel another. We look for both in their place." Thus I argued with the thoughtless young wife,, but my words made no impression. When abroad, she dressed with exquisite taste, and was lovely to look upon ; but at home, she was care- less and slovenly, and made it almost impossible for those who saw her to realize that she was the bril- liant beauty they had met in company but a short time before. But even this did not last long. I noticed, after a few months, that the habits of home were confirming themselves, and becoming apparent abroad. Her fortune was made, and why should she now waste time or employ her thoughts about matters of personal appearance ? The habits of Mr. Douglass, on the contrary, did not change. He was orderly as before, and dressed with the same regard to neatness. He @ @ MY fortune's made. ' 145 never appeared at the breakfast table in the morn- ing without being shaved, nor did he lounge about in the evening in his shirt sleeves. The slovenly habits into which Cora had fallen annoyed him seri- ously, and still more so when her carelessness about her appearance began to manifest itself abroad as at home. When he hinted any thing on the subject, she did not hesitate to reply in a jesting manner, that her fortune was made, and that she need not trouble herself any longer about how she looked. Douglass did not feel very much complimented ; but as he had his share of good sense, he saw that to assume a cold and offended manner would do no good. " If your fortune is made, so is mine," he re- plied on one occasion, quite coolly and indifferently. Next morning he made his appearance at the break- fast table with a beard of twenty-four hours' growth. " You haven't shaved this morning, Edward," said Cora, to whose eyes the dirty-looking face of her husband was particularly unpleasant. " No," he replied, carelessly. " It's a serious trouble to shave every day." " But you look so much the better with a cleanly-shaved face ! " " Looks are nothing, ease and comfort every thing," said Douglass. " But common decency, Edward I " " I see nothing indecent in a long beard," re- plied the husband. 10 :@ @ 146 MY fortune's made. Still Cora argued, but in vain. Her husband went off to his business with his unshaven face. " I don't know whether to shave or not," said Douglass, next morning, running over his rough face, upon which was a beard of forty-eight hours' growth. His wife had hastily thrown on a wrap- per, and with slipshod feet, and head like a mop, was lounging in a large rocking chair, awaiting the breakfast bell. " For mercy's sake, Edward, don't go any long- er with that shockingly dirty face," spoke up Cora. " If you knew how dreadfully you looked." " Looks are nothing," replied Edward, stroking his beard. " Why, what has come over you all at once ? " " Nothing, only it's such a trouble to shave every day." " But you didn't shave yesterday." " I know ; I'm just as well off to-day as if I had. So much saved, at any rate." But Cora argued the matter, and her husband finally yielded, and mowed down the luxuriant growth of beard. " How much better you do look ! " said the wife. " Now don't go another day without shav- ing." " But why should I take so much trouble about mere looks ? I'm just as good with a long beard as with a short one. It's a great deal of trouble to shave every day. You can love me just as @ @ MY fortune's made. 147 well, and why need I care about what others say or think?" On the following morning Douglass appeared not only with a long beard, but with a bosom and collar that were both soiled and rumpled. " Why, Edward ! how you do look ! " said Cora. " You've neither shaved nor put on a clean shirt." Edward stroked his face, and running his fin- gers along the edge of his collar, remarked indiffer- ently, as he did so, " It's no matter. I look well enough. This being so very particular in dress is a waste of time ; and I'm getting tired of it." And in this trim Douglass went off to his busi- ness, much to the annoyance of his wife, who could not bear to see her husband looking so slovenly. Gradually the declension from neatness went on, until Edward was quite a match for his wife ; and yet, strange to say, Cora had not taken the hint, broad as it was. In her own person she was as untidy as ever. About six months after their marriage, we in- vited a few friends to spend a social evening with us, Cora and her husband among the number. Cora came along quite early, and said that her husband was very much engaged, and could not come till after tea. My young friend had not taken much pains in her attire. Indeed, her ap- pearance mortified me, as it contrasted so decidedly @ 148 MY fortune's made. with that of the other ladies who were present; and I could not help suggesting to her that she was wrong in being so indifferent about her dress. But she laughingly replied to me, " You know my fortune's made now, Mrs. Smith. I can afford to be negligent in these matters^ It's a great waste of time to dress so much." I tried to argue against this, but could make no impression upon her. About an hour after tea, and while we were all engaged in pleasant conversation, the door of the parlor opened, and in walked Mr. Douglass. At first glance I thought I must be mistaken. But no, it was Edward himself. But what a figure he did cut! His uncombed hair was stand- ing up, in stiff spikes, in a hundred different ways. His face could not have felt the touch of a razor for two or three days ; and he wag guiltless of clean linen for at least the same length of time. His vest was soiled, his boots unblacked, and there was an unmistakable hole in one of his elbows. " Why, Edward ! " exclaimed his wife, with a look of mortification and distress, as her husband came across the room, with a face in which no consciousness of the figure he cut could be detected. " Why, my dear fellow, what is the matter ? " said my husband, frankly ; for he perceived that the ladies were beginning to titter, and the gentlemen were looking at each other, trying @ @ MY fortune's made. 149 to repress their risible tendencies, and therefore deemed it best to throw off all restraint on the subject. " The matter ? Nothing's the matter, I believe. Why do you ask ? " Douglass looked grave. " Well may we ask what's the matter I " broke in Cora, energetically. " How could you come here in such a plight?" "In such a plight?" And Edward looked down at himself, felt of his beard, and run his fin- gers through his hair. " What's the matter? Is any thing wrong ? " " You look as if you had just waked up from a nap of a week, with your clothes on, and come off without washing your face or combing your hair," said my husband. " O ! " And Edward's countenance brightened a little. Then he said, with much gravity of manner, " I've been extremely hurried of late, and only left my store a few minutes ago. I hardly thought it worth while to go home to dress up. I knew you were all friends here. Besides, as my for- tune's made^^^ and he glanced, with a looJt not to be mistaken, towards his wife, "I don't feel called upon to give as much attention to mere dress as formerly. Before I was married, it was necessary to be particular in these matters, but now it is of no consequence." I turned towards Cora. Her face was like crim- @ @ & =@ 150 MY fortune's made. son. In a few minutes she arose, and went quick- ly from the room. I followed her, and Edward came after us pretty soon. He found his wife in tears, and- sobbing almost hysterically. " I've got a carriage at the door," he said to me aside, half laughing, half serious. " So help her on with her things, and we'll retire in disorder." " But it's too bad in you, Mr. Douglass," I re- plied. " Forgive me for making your house the scene of this lesson to Cora," he whispered. " It had to be given, and I thought I would venture to tres- pass upon your forbearance." " I'll think about that," said I, in return. In a few minutes Cora and her husband retired, and in spite of good breeding, and every thing else, we all had a hearty laugh over the matter on my return to the parlor, when I explained the curi- ous scene that had just occurred. How Cora and her husband settled the affair between themselves, I never inquired. But -one thing is certain I never saw her in a slovenly dress afterwards, at home or abroad. She was cured. )0: @ . @ MORAL WORTH. 151 MIGNONETTE. Reseda Odorata. Language MORAL WORTH. Now look ye on the plain and modest guise Of yon unlovely flower. Unlovely ? No Not beautiful, 'tis true not touched with hues Like hers we late have gazed on ; but so rich In precious fragrance is that lovely one, So loved for her sweet qualities, that I Should woo her first amid a world of flowers ; For she is like some few beloved ones here, Whom eyes, perchance, might slightingly pass o'er, But whose true wisdom, gentleness, and worth. Unchanging friendship, ever-faithful love. And countless minor beauties of the mind. Attach our hearts in deep affection still. TWAMBtY. When yet a virgin free and indisposed, I loved, but saw you only with my eyes ; I could not reach the beauties of your soul : I have lived since in contemplation And long experience of your growing goodness ; What then was passion is my judgment now ; Through all the several changes of your life. Confirmed and settled in adoring you. ILlykk. @ 152 SENSITIVENESS. SENSITIVE PLANT. Mimosa. Language SENSITIVENESS. Like the mimosa, shrinking from The blight of some familiar finger Like flowers which but in secret bloom, Where aye the sheltered shadows linger, And which beneath the noon's hot ray Would fold their leaves and fade away. Whittier. Faithful and fond, with sense beyond thy years. And natural piety that leans to heaven ; Wrung by a harsh word suddenly to tears. Yet patient of rebuke when justly given ; Obedient, easy to be reconciled, And meekly cheerful, such art thou, dear child ! Mes. Noeton. Dearly bought, the hidden treasure Finer feelings can bestow ; , Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure Thrill the deepest notes of woe. - Burns. The frigid and unfeeling thrive the best ; And a warm heart in this cold world is like A beacon light, wasting its feeble flame Upon the wintry deep, that feels it not, And trembling, with each pitiless gust that blows, Till its faint fire is spent. H. Neale. @ @ @ = NOT DISCOURAGED. 153 MISTLETOE. Viscum Alburn. Language NOT DISCOURAGED. Peter and Paul went a-fishing one day, And it so came about That Paul caught a trout ; But Peter kept baiting and fishing away He'd scarce had a nibble when twilight was gray So he sat himself down for a pout Peter sat himself down for a pout. And Paul laughed at Peter, and called him a fool ; He had better to bed. For the day was nigh sped, And the earth it was damp, and the evening cool : But Peter was crabbed, and called him a mule ; Then, baiting his hook and scratching his head, " There's other fish swimming here yet," Peter said ; " 0, there's other fish swimming here yet." And Peter kept fishing ; but Paul went his way To eat troat with his bread Ere he went to his bed And he wondered how long poor Peter would stay : But Pete caught a salmon as fair as the day. And he laughed to himself, as homeward he sped ; " There's other fish swimming there yet," Peter said ; " 0, there's other fish swimming there yet." Whene'er in life's ocean a maid you espy, And you vow, and you sue. And she pledges you true, But while you are napping she's caught by a^_y, Don't turn, like a dunce, with a tear in your eye. But think of one Peter, who sat in the dew, And muttered this text while he baited anew " There's other fish swimming there yet ; O, there's other fish swimming there yet." J. J. Lord. ' . -^ 248 THE EVENING BEFORE MARRIAGE. THE EVENING BEFORE MARRIAGE. " We shall certainly be very happy together," said Louise to her aunt, on the evening before her marriage, and her cheeks glowed with a deeper red, and her eyes shone with delight. When a bride says we^ it may easily be guessed whom, of all persons in the world, she means thereby. " I do not doubt it, dear Louise," replied her aunt ; " see only that you continue happy together." " O, who can doubt that we shall continue so? I know myself. I have faults, indeed ; but my love for him will correct them. And so long as we love each other, we cannot be anhappy. Our love will never grow old." " Alas! " sighed her aunt, " thou dost speak like a maiden of nineteen, on the day before her mar- riage, in the intoxication of wishes fulfilled, of fair hopes and happy omens. Dear child, re- member this : even the heart in time groivs old. Days will come when the magic of the senses shall fade. And when this enchantment has fled, then it first becomes evident whether we are truly worthy of love. When custom has made familiar the charms that are most attractive, when youthful freshness has died away, and with the brightness of domestic life more and more shadows have mingled, then, Louise, and not till then, can the wife say of the husband, ' He is worthy of love ; * (g) @ @ - @ THE EVENING BEFORE MARRIAGE. 249 then, first, the husband say of the wife, ' She blooms in imperishable beauty.' But, truly, on the day before marriage, such assertions sound laughable to me." " I understand you, dear aunt. You would say that our mutual virtues alone can in later years give us worth for each other. But is not he to whom I am to belong for myself I can boast nothing but the best intentions is he not the worthiest, noblest, of all the young men of the city ? Blooms not, in his soul, .every virtue that tends to make life happy?" " My child," replied her aunt, " I grant it. Vir- tues bloom in thee as well as in him ; I can say this to thee without flattery. But, dear heart, they bloom only, and are not yet ripened beneath the sun's heat and the shower. No blossoms deceive the expectations more than these. We can never tell in what soil they have taken root. Who knows the concealed depths of the heart ? " " Ah, dear aunt, you really frighten me." " So much the better, Louise. Such fear is right ; such fear is as it should be on the evening before marriage. I love thee tenderly, and will, thejefore, declare all my thoughts on this subject without disguise. I am not as yet an old aunt. At seven and twenty years one still looks forward into life with pleasure ; the world still presents a bright side to us. I have an excellent husband. I am happy. Therefore I have the right to speak =^ : 250 THE EVENING BEFORE MARRIAGE. thus to thee, and to call thy attention to a secret which, perhaps, thou dost not yet know; one which is not often spoken of to a young and pretty maiden ; one, indeed, which does not greatly oc- cupy the thoughts of a young man, and still is of the utmost importance in every household ; a secret from which alone spring lasting love and unalterable happiness." Louise seized the hand of her aunt in both of hers. " Dear aunt, you know I believe you in every thing. You mean that enduring happiness and lasting love are not insured to us by accident- al qualities, by fleeting charms ; but only by those virtues of the mind which we bring to each other. These are the best dowry which we can possess ; these never become old." " As it happens, Louise, the virtues, also, like the beauties of the body, can grow old, and be- come repulsive and hateful with age." " How, dearest aunt ? What is it you say ? Name to me a virtue which can become hateful with years." " When they have become so, we no longer call them virtues, as a beautiful maiden can no longer be called beautiful when time has changed her to an old and wrinkled woman." " But, aunt, the virtues are nothing earthly." " Perhaps." " How can gentleness and mildness ever become hateful?" ^ THE EVENING BEFORE MARRIAGE. 251 " So soon as they degenerate into insipid indo- lence and listlessness." " And manly courage ? " " Becomes imperious rudeness." " And modest diffidence ? " " Turns to fawning humility." *' And noble pride ? " " To vulgar haughtiness." " And readiness to oblige ? " " Becomes a habit of too ready friendship and servility." " DeaR aunt, you make me almost angry. My future husband can never degenerate thus. He has one virtue which will preserve him as he is forever. A deep sense, an indestructible feeling for every thing that is good, and great, and noble, dwell in his bosom. And this delicate suscepti- bility to all that is noble dwells in me, also, I hope, as well as in him. This is the innate pledge and security for our happiness." " But if it should grow old with you ; if it should change to hateful excitability ; and excita- bility IS THE WORST ENEMY OF MATRIMONY. YoU both possess sensibility. That I do not deny ; but beware lest this grace should degenerate, and be- come irritable and quarrelsome." " Ah, dearest, if I might never become old ! I could then be sure that my husband would never cease to love me." " Thou art greatly in error, dear child. "Wert ^ 252 THE EVENING BEFORE MARRIAGE. thou always as fresh and beautiful as to-day, still thy husband's eye. would by custom of years be- come indifferent to these advantages. Custom is the greatest enchantress in the world, and in the house one of the most benevolent of fairies. She renders that which is the most beautiful, as well as the ugliest, familiar. A wife is young, and be- comes old : it is custom which hinders the husband from perceiving the change. On the contrary, did she remain young, while he became old, it might bring consequences which would render the man in years jealous. It is better as kind Providence has ordered it. Imagine that thou hadst grown to be an old woman, and thy husband were a blooming youth ; how wouldst thou then feel ? " Louise rubbed her chin, and said, " I cannot tell." Her aunt continued. " But I will call thy at- tention to a secret which " " That is it," interrupted Louise, hastily, " that is it which I long so much to hear." Her aunt said, " Listen to me attentively. What I now tell thee I have proved. It consists of two parts. The first part of the means to ren- der a marriage happy of itself prevents every possibility of dissension, and would even at last make the spider and the fly the best of friends with each other. The second part is the best and surest method of preserving feminine attractions." " Ah ! " exclaimed Louise. ^-= - . THE EVENING BEFORE MARRIAGE. 253 " The former half of the means, then : In the first solitary hour after the ceremony, take thy bridegroom, and demand a solemn- vow of him, and give him a solemn vow in return. Promise one another, sacredly, never, not even in mere jest, to wrangle with each other ; never to bandy words, or indulge in the least ill humor. Never! I say, never. Wrangling, even in jest, and putting on an air of ill humor merely to tease, becomes ear- nest by practice. Mark that ! Next promise each other, sincerely and solemnly, never to have a se- cret from each other, under whatever pretext, with whatever excuse it may be. You must, continu- ally and every moment, see clearly into each other's bosom. Even when one of you has com- mitted a fault, wait not an instant, but confess it freely ; let it cost tears, but confess it. And as you keep nothing secret from each other, so, on the contrary, preserve the privacies of your house, marriage state and heart, from father, mother, sister, brother, aunt, and all the world. You two, with God's help, build your own quiet world. Every third or fourth one whom you draw into it with you will form a party, and stand between you two. That should never be. Promise this to each other. Renew the vow at every tempta- tion. You will find your account in it. Your souls will grow, as it were, together, and at last will become as one. Ah, if many a young pair had on their wedding day known this pimple (2) @ (g ) @l 254 THE EVENING BEFORE MARRIAGE. secret, and straightway practised it, how many marriages were happier than, alas ! they are ! " Louise kisi^d her aunt's hand with ardor. " I feel that it must be so. Where this confidence is absent, the married, even after wedlock, are two strangers, who do not know each other. It should be so : without this there can be no happiness. And now, aunt, the best preservative of female beauty ? " Her aunt smiled and said, " We may not con- ceal from ourselves that a handsome man pleases us a hundred times more than an ill-looking one, and the men are pleased wdth us when we are pretty. But what we call beautiful what in the men pleases us, and in us what pleases the men is not skin, and hair, and shape, and color, as in a picture, or in a statue ; but it is the character ; it is the soul that is within these, which enchants us by looks and words, earnestness, and joy, and sorrow. The men admire us the more they suppose those virtues of the mind to exist in us which the outside promises ; and we think a malicious man disagreeable, however graceful and hand- some he may be. Let a young maiden, then, who would preserve her beauty, preserve but that purity of ^oul, those sweet qualities of the mind, those virtues, in short, by which she first drew her lover to her feet. And the best preservative of virtue, to render it unchanging, and keep it ever young, is religion that inward union with the De- ity and eternity and faith ; is piety that walk- . (g)j @ THE EVENING BEFORE MARRIAGE. 255 itig with God, so pure, so peaceful, so beneficent to mortals." " See, dear heart," continued the aunt, " there are virtues which arise out of mere experience. These grow old with time, and alter, because, by change of circumstances and "inclination, prudence alters her means of action, and because her growth does not always keep pace with that of our years and passions. But religious virtues can never change; these remain eternally the same, because our God is always the same, and that eternity the same, which we and those who love us are hastening to enter. Preserve, then, a mind innocent and pure, looking for every thing from God. Thus will that beauty of soul remain for which thy bridegroom to-day adores thee. I am no bigot, no fanatic ; I am thy aunt of seven and twenty. I love all innocent and rational amuse- ments. But for this very reason I say to thee, Be a dear, good Christian, and thou wilt as a mother, yes, as a grandmother, be still beautiful." Louise threw her arms about her neck, and wept in silence, and whispered, " I thank thee, angel." ^ anox. ^ 256 INTELLECT. WALNUT, BLACK. Juglans JVigra. Language INTELLECT. Clear on the expansion of that snow-white forehead Sits intellectual beauty, meekly throned ; Yet, O, the expression tells that thou hast sorrowed, And in thy yearning, human heart, atoned For thy soul's lofty gifts. ME8. E. I. Eames. REPLY. Tell me no more Of my soul's lofty gifts ! Are they not vain To quench its haunting thirst for happiness ? Have I not loved, and striven, and failed to bind One true heart unto me, whereon my own Might find a resting-place, a home for all Its burden of affliction ? I depart Unknown, though Fame goes with me ; I must leave The earth unknown. Mrs. HEM.Ajfs. Who born so poor, Of intellect so mean, as not to know What seemed the best ; and, knowing, not to do ? As not to know what God and conscience bade, And what they bade not able to obey ? POLLOK. ^ (d)= FORSAKEN LOVER. :(0) 257 - WEEPING WILLOW. Salix. Language FORSAKEN LOVER. 'Tis said ! the bitter word has passed Lips sealed, till now, with maiiy a kiss ; Farewell, farewell ! one Ifirst and last For there's no second pang like this. Farewell ! I never thought the word Should thus be spoken, till that hour When life's best pulse, still thine, adored, In my last look confessed thy power. Farewell ! music, sad, but sweet, When thus 'tis uttered, whence thy spell? Love, Pride, Regret, and Passion meet, To make it thrill. Farewell, farewell ! Many a swan-like song to thee Hath been sung, thou gentle tree ! '' Many a lute its last lament Down thy moonlight stream hath sent, Willow, sighing willow ! Therefore wave and murmur on ; Sigh for sweet affections gone, And for tuneful voices fled, And for love whose heart hath bled, Ever, willow, willow ! @. 17 =@ 258 FRATERNAL LOVE. WOODBINE. Lonicera Periclymenon. Language FRATERNAL LOVE. Little fairy, Light and airy, Gladsome, blithesome little creature, Ever cheerful, Never tearful, ^ Sweetness beams in every feature ; In thy face not a trace Can be seen of aught like sorrow ; Never sad, always glad. As to-day art thou to-morrow. Happy ever. Sorrow never Comes to thee, thou flower rarest, If but lightly. Then less brightly Would the smile be which thou wearest ; Thus to thee may life be ; May kind fortune e'er caress thee ; Peace be thine, sister mine God above, I pray, will bless thee ! James H. Beottn. ^- @ @ CURE FOR THE HEARTACHE. 259 YAEROW. Achillea Millefolium. Language CURE FOE. THE HEARTACHE. I SAID, " You know you must have known I long have loved loved you alone, But cannot know how dearly." I told her, if my hopes were crossed, My every aim in life was lost : She knew I spoke sincerely. ^ She answered, as I breathless dwelt Upon her words, and would have knelt, " Nay, move not thus the least ; You have you long have had " " Say on. Sweet girl ! Thy heart ? " " your foot upoii The flounce of my hattiste.** Hoffman. All love may be expelled by other love. As poisons ar by poisons. Detdek. But loved he never after ? Came there none To roll the stone from his sepulchral heart. And sit in it an angel ? @ =@ 260 SORROW. YEW, Taxus. Language SOEROW. Alas for my weary and care-liaunted bosom ! The spells of the spring time arouse it no more ; The song in the wildwood, the sheen in the blossom, The fresh-swelling fountain their magic is o'er ! When I list to the stream, when I look to the flowers, They tell of the past, with so mournful a tone. That I call up the throngs of my long-vanished hours, And sigh that their transports are over and gone. Willis G. Clakk. Sad are the sorrows that oftentimes come, Heavy and dull, and blighting and chill. Shutting the light from our heart and our home, Marring our hopes, and defying our will. But let us not sink beneath the woe ; 'Tis well, perchance, we are tried and bowed ; For be sure, though we may not oft see it below, " There's a silver lining to every cloud." So many great Illustrious spirits have conversed with Woe, Have in her school been taught, as are enough To consecrate distress, and make ambition E'en wish the frown beyond the smile of fortune. TlIOMSOW. Through suffering and sorrow thou hast passed To show us what a woman true may be. J. K. Lowell. = ABSENCE. 261 ZINNIA. Zinnia Multiflora. Language ABSENCE. By each dark wave around the vessel sweeping, Farther am I from old dear friends removed ; Till the lone vigil that I now am keeping, I did not know how much you were beloved. How many acts of kindness little heeded, Kind looks, kind words, rise half reproachful now ! Hurried and anxious, my vexed life has speeded, And memory wears a soft, accusing brow. My friends, my absent friends, Do you think of me as I think of you ? (Sunshine is ever cheerful, when the morning Wakens the world with cloud-dispelling eyes ; The spirits mount to glad endeavor, scorning What toil upon a path so sunny lies. Sunshine and hope are comrades, and their weather Calls into life the energies of earth ; But memory and moonlight go together, Reflected in the light that either brings. My friends, my absent friends, Do you think of me then ? I think of you. li. E. Lakdos. ^ @: 262 THE HONEYMOON. THE HONEYMOON. A SKETCH FROM LIFE. If we were constantly to bear in mind, in our passage through life, that " 'tis trifles make the sum of human things," how much of the misery into which many of us now heedlessly plunge might be entirely avoided! Unhappily, there are but few in the married state who, in their remi- niscences, are enabled to look back upon the un- broken chain of bliss so beautifully depicted in the lines above quoted ; and the only reason, that we can imagine, why it is not oftener realized, is next to the natural perversity of our race the want of proper attention to the thousand little occurrences and unpleasant passages, confessedly trifling in themselves, but which, in the aggregate, " make up in number what they want in weight." It is not, however, our intention, even were we equal to the task, to digress into a dissertation upon the various ills which afflict humanity, or the probable causes which produce them ; but merely to present the reader with a brief sketch, which will perhaps serve, in some respect, to illus- trate, as well the ease with which the seeds of unhappiness may be incautiously strewn in the hearts of those who love us, as also what-may be considered the infant or incipient state of that @ - THE HONEYMOON. 263 bright existence, warmed by that " sacred flame," which can alone qualify us " To love in wintry age the same As first in youth we loved." A festival was given by a young married lady one of a numerous circle of acquaintances on the return of her birthday, which was likewise the first anniversary of her marriage. A large party of her young friends, the greater part of whom had knelt at the hymeneal altar at about the same time with herself, were present to en- liven the occasion. Mr. and Madam Mayland (for such shall be the name of the host and host- ess) presented a most felicitous union, and were noted for their tender regard for each other, which partook more of the romantic fondness which characterizes the young and the hopeful lover, than of what is usually observable in the staid realities of married life, of even less than a year's standing. Happy within themselves, they neglected no op- portunity to administer to the joy and comfort of their friends whom they gathered about them, and possessing the most agreeable and winning man- ners, it was rarely that their efforts to please were unsuccessful. With such beings to entertain, it is easily imagined that their visitors at such times would be under very little restraint in pursuing the pleas- ures of the hour; and restraint in such cases, as all know, is a great bar to enjoyment. The con- r - . g) @ = 264 THE HONEYMOON. versations were animated, and for a time were par- ticipated in by all. Glowing with warmth and animation, after a number of other topics had been exhausted, the ever-prolific theme of matri- mony was brought upon the tapis. This, in some respect, was perhaps peculiarly appropriate to the exigency of the occasion ; but, unfortunately, it was suffered to take a turn, the only result of which, if left unchecked, would be likely, in time, to grow into an unconquerable evil. This untimely interruption of the general harmo- ny which marked their intercouse for a few moments previous was caused by some of the young hus- bands present, who were disposed to treat the sub- ject in the most disagreeable light, by inveighing against matrimony, and by ridiculing that condi- tion and its vaunted pleasures, w^ien compared with their former " single blessedness." Some of the coarser minded among them went so far and this in the presence of their wives as to discourse eloquently upon the bright fields for va- rious achievements which would be open to them, and upon which they might enter, if they were un- married. " I would travel," said one. " I too," said another. " I would explore the old world, and feast upon its curiosities and its wonders, ere I became a settled man." " I would enter the lists of fame at home," said a third. " I would not yield to the blind impulses (o ) THE HONEYMOON. 265 of Cupid until I had reached the highest seat in the council of state." " l^y choice," said a fourth, " were I permitted to recommence my career, should be the navy, in- stead of a wife." " And mine the army." Thus they proceeded through their lengthened category ; but, alas I none said they would en- deavor to make themselves and their wives con- tented and happy in their then present condition. All that they did say, though without apparently any malicious or evil intent^ broadly implied that their wives were burdens to which they were chained, and which kept them from rising. But there are some things too exalted to be as- sailed with the trifling jest ; and there are hearts whose chords are too exquisitely sensitive to re- sist the withering influence of the impious sneer, when coming from those they love, be the motive what it will. It was evident that the words which fell from the lips of some of the party descended like drops of molten lava upon the hearts of their young and trusting wives, rendering them incapa- ble of continuing their participation in the even- ing's enjoyments. This, though readily noticed by others, and particularly by Mr. and Mrs. May- land, was entirely overlooked or unheeded by those who were the cause of it. Painful indeed was the result to all but such as were its active promoters. Mr. Mayland, who had (5 > @ 266 THE HONEYMOON. withdrawn his voice, and was sitting a silent spec- tator of what was going forward during this part of the conversation, was justly indignant at the excesses of his guests, and longed for an opportu- nity not only to change the tenor of their unbe- coming observations, but to administer, at the same time, without involving any breach of hospitality, some suitable and effectual rebuke. They, however, continued their bitter remarks : finally, noticing Mr. Mayland's silence, one of them approached, and tapping him upon the shoulder, said, " Well, Mayland, here you sit as quiet as a mouse. What do you think of the matter the advantages and disadvantages? What would you do if you were not married ? " His (Mayland's) sweetheart wife was sitting a little distance from him when this question was propounded. . She had been highly delighted that her dear iiusband had abstained from the reckless flow of words which had been passing ; but now, seeing that he was directly appealed to, her heart leaped, and she riveted her eyes upon him with mingled emotions of hope and fear. It was not at that moment a matter of much difficulty to read he?r countenance. It seemed to ask, " And am I, too, to be compromised by my husband, as my friends have been by theirs ? " But her sus- pense was of short duration. " What would I do ? " slowly repeated the lover husband ; and then, turning to meet the glance of %- (Q) THE HONEYMOON. 267 his wife, he continued, " I would go immediate- ly in search of Miss ," (repeating her maid- en name,) " offer to her my heart and hand, be blessed by receiving hers in return, and then get married as soon as possible. This unexpected reply, so deliberately and firm- ly expressed, had the effect to produce instant silence. The satirical portion of the young gen- tlemen understood and appreciated its full force. They were suddenly abashed. It was a contrast with their own conduct too striking not to have its own weight. The young wife, who was the subject of it, was so deeply affected, so filled with gratitude, that she had been spared the in- fliction of a pain she so fervently deprecated, that she sprang from her seat, and fell upon his neck, and with a tear of joy glistening in her eye, said, in a subdued tone, " My beloved husband, that answer is in conso- nance with what, to me, you have ever been. Would that I were more worthy of your most devoted affection." " More w^orthy, my dear wife," he returned ; " more worthy you cannot be. You are to me a jewel of inestimable worth. Deprived of you, life would be to me but one unrelieved blank." He then impressed upon her forehead an impas- sioned kiss, and seated her gently beside him. But the scene did not end here. The voices of those who, a few moments before, were loudest ^ 268 THE HONEYMOON. in vain prattle, were now hushed in silence ; and that silence needed to be broken by some spirit that could suggest a different and more agreeable pastime than that in which they had just been in- dulging, but which none now seemed disposed to renew. At this crisis, a married sister of the hus- band who had so suddenly changed the order of things, which she viewed with much satisfaction, noticed, likewise, the kiss, and for the purpose of putting an end to the awkward intermission, play- fully asked, directing attention to her brother, " Are you not ashamed to be courting here be- fore all the company ? " " The company," he returned, with an air of tri- umph which he could not well repress, " will please excuse us. We did not commence our regular courtship until after marriage^ and it is not yet ended. We trust that it may continue through the whole course of our natural lives, and that we may spend our honeymoon in heaven." This was enough. The scene was indeed changed. The offending gentlemen immediately became fully convinced of the pernicious tendency of their conduct frankly acknowledged their error apologized to their wives kissed them all round, and soon retired in perfect good humor, all well pleased with the lesson they had learned, and which was perhaps the means of saving them from many after years of discontent, alienation, and misery. ^@ : : FLORAL DICTIONARY. Acacia ; Platonic or Chaste Love. Acalea; Temperance. Acanthus ; The Arts. Achilla Millefolia ; War. Aconite-leaved Crowfoot, or Fair Maids of France; Lustre. African Marigold ; A''ulgar Minds. lus Castas; Coldness, to live without Agnu Lov 1 a Stranger. -- Agrimony ; Thankfulness. Almond Tree ; Indiscretion, Heedlessness. Almond Laurel ; Perfidy. Almond (Flowering) ; Hope. Aloe; Grief. Althaea Frutex ; Persuasion. Alyssum (Sweet) ; Worth beyond Beauty. Amaranth ; Immortality. Amaryllis ; Haughtiness, Pride. Ambrosia; Love returned. American Cowslip ; You are ray Divinity. American Elm ; Patriotism. American Linden ; Matrimony. American Starwort ; Welcome t( Anemone ; Your Frown I defy. Anemone (Garden) ; Forsaken. Angelica ; Inspiration. Angrec ; Royalty. Apocynum ; Falsehood. Apple Blossom ; Preference, Farae speaks him great and good. Arbor vitas ; Unchanging Affection. Arum or Wake Robin ; Ardor. A Roseleaf ; I will not trouble you. Asclepias; Cure for the Heartache. Ash; Gr.indeur. Ash-leaved Trumpet Flower ; Separation. Aspon Tree ; Excessive Sensil)ility. Asjihodel; My Regrets follow you to the (irave. Auricula; Painting. Auricula (Scarlet) ; Pride. Azalea ; Your Blush has won rae. Bachelor's Button ; Celibacy. Balm; Sympathy. Balm of Gilead ; Healing, a Cure. Balm (Gentle) ; Pleasantry. Balsamine ; Impatience. Barberry ; Sharpness, Soumesg. Basil ; Hatred of the other Sex. Bayberry ; Sourness or Sharpness. Bay Leaf; I change but in dying. Bay Wreath ; Glory. Bear's Breech ; Art. Beech; Prosperity. Bell Flower ; Constancy. Belvidere ; I declare against you. Bee Ophrys ; Error. Betony; Surprise. Bilberry; Treachery. Birch; Gracefulness. Bindweed; Humility. Bird Cherry ; Hope. Bird's Foot Trefoil; Revenge. Bearded Crepis ; Protection. Black Poplar ; Courage. Blackthorn ; Difficulty. Bladderuut Tree ; Frivolous Amusements. Blue Blottle Centaury ; Delicacy. Blue Flowered Greek Valerian ; Rupture. Blue Canterbury Bell; Constancy. Bonus Henricus ; Goodness. Borage; Bluntness or Roughness of Man- ners. Box; Stoicism. Bramble ; AVeariness. Branch of Currants ; You please all. Branch of Thorns; Severity, Rigor. Broken Straw ; Dissension, Rupture. Broom ; Mirth, Neatness. Bryony; Prosperity. Buckbean ; Flattery's Smile, Calm Repose. Bud of a White Rose ; A Heart ignorant of Love. Bugloss; Falsehood. Burdock; Importunity. Bundle of Reeds with their Panicles ; Music- Buttercup Kingcup ; Riches. Butterfly Ophrys ; Gayety. Butterfly Weed ; Let me go. Cabbage; Profit. Calla (^thiopica) ; Feminine Modesty. Calycanthus ; Benevolence. Camomile ; Energy in Adversity. Campanula; Gratitude. Canary Glass ; Perseverance. Candy Tuft ; Indiflference. Canterbury Bell (Blue) ; Constancy. Cardamine ; Paternal Error. Carnation ; Disdain. Catesby's Starwort; Afterthought. Cardinal's Flower ; Distinction. Catalpa Tree ; Beware of the Coquette. Catchfly ; Artifice, or a Snare. Cedar of Lebanon; Incorruptible. Cedar Tree ; Strength. Checkered Fritillary ; Persecution- Cherry Tree ; Good Education. Cherry Blossom ; Spiritual Beauty. Chestnut Tree ; Do me Justice. China Aster, or Chinese Starwort; Variety. China or Indian Pink ; Aversion. China or Monthly Rose ; Beauty ever new. Chinese Chrysanthemum ; Cheerfulness un- der Adversity. Cinquefoil ; The Dead. Cistus, or Rock Rose ; Popular Favor. Circaea; Fascination. Clematis ; Mental Beauty. Clove Gillyflower ; Dignity. Cobcea; Gossip. Cockscomb, or Crested Amaranth; Smgu larity. ^ = =@ 270 FLOEAL mCTIONAEY. @= Colchicum, or Meadow SaflFron ; My best Days are past. Coltsfoot ; Justice shall be done you. Columbine ; Folly. Common Cactus, or Indian Fig ; I bum. Common Fumitory ; Spleen. Common Milfoil ; War. Common Reed; Complaisance. Common Thistle ; Importunity. Convolvulus Major; Extinguished Hopes. Convolvulus Minor ; Night. Corchorus ; Impatience of Absence. Corn ; Riches. Cornelian Cherry Tree ; Durability. Coreopsis; Always Cheerful. Coriander ; Concealed Merit. Coronilla ; Success crown your Wishes. Cowslip; Native Grace. Cranberry ; Hardiness. Creeping Cereus ; Horror. Crocus ; I am his. Cross of Jerusalem; Devotion. Crown Imperial; Aristocracy. Cuckoo Pink; Ardor. Cyclamen ; Diffidence. Cypress ; Disappointed Hopes. Cypress and >larigold ; Despair. Cypress Tree ; Death and eternal Sorrow. Daffodil ; Deceitful Hope. Dahlia ; Heartless Beauty, Instability. Daisy ; Innocence. Daisy (Garden) ; I partake your Senti- ments. Daisy (White) ; I will think of it Damask Rose ; Freshness of Complexion. DanScHon ; Coquetry. Daphne Odora ; Sweets to the Sweet. Darnel, or Ray Grass ; Vice. Dew riant ; A Serenade. Dead Leaves ; Sadness. Dignity in Misfortune ; Rosebay. Dittany; Birth. Dodder; Baseness. Draeon Plant ; Snare. Drie'ii Flax ; Utility. Ebony; Hypocrisy. Eclantine or Sweetbrier ; Poetry. Elder; Zealousness. Ehn; Dignity. Enchanter's Nightshade ; Fascination.Witch- craft Endive; Frugality. Eupatorium ; Delay. Evergreen; Poverty and Worth. Evergreen Thorn ; Solace in Adversity. Everlasting ; Always remembered. Everlasting Pea ; Lasting Pleasure. Fennel ; Strength. Fei-n ; Sincerity. Fern (Flowering) ; Revery. Fig ; Argument. Fig Tree ; Prolific. Filbert j Reconciliation. Fir; Time. Fir Tree ; Elevation. Flax ; Domestic Industry. Flax-leaved Goldy Locks ; Tardiness. Flora's Bell ; You are without Pretension. FIowcr-de-Luce j I am burning with Love. Flower of an Hour ; Delicate Beauty. Flowering Reed : Confidence in Heaven. Forget-me-not ; True Love. Fairy's Glove, or Foxglove ; Ambition, I am not changed they wrong me. Frankincense; The Incense of a faithfhl Heart. Fraxinella; Fire. French Honeysuckle ; Rustic Beauty. French Marigold ; Jealousy. Frog Ophrys ; Disgust Full-blown Eglantine ; Simplicity. Fullers' Teasel ; Austerity. Garden Chervil ; Sincerity. Garden Marigold ; Uneasiness. Garden Ranunculus; You are rich in At- tractions. Garden Sage ; Esteem. Garland of Roses ; Reward of Virtue. Geutiana Fritillaria ; Virgin Pride. Geranium; Gentility. Geranium (Dark) ; Despondency. Geranium (Rose) ; Preference. Geranium (Scarlet) ; Consolation. Geranium (Silver-leafed) ; Recall. Geranium (Sorrowful) ; Melancholy Spirit. Gillyflower ; Lasting Beauty. Glory Flower: Glorious Beauty. Goat's Rue ; Reason. Golden Rod; Precaution. Gorse ; Cheerfulness in Adversity. Goosefoot; Goodness. Grape (Wild) ; Charity. Grass; Utility. Great Bindweed ; Dangerous Insinuation. Guelder Rose ; Winter, or Age. Harebell ; Delicate and lonely as this Flower. Ilawkweed : Quicksightedness. Hawthorn ; Hope. Hazel ; Reconciliation. Heath; Solitude. Helen ia ; Tears. Heliotrope ; Devotion. Hellebore; Calumny. Hemlock ; You will cause my Death. Henbane ; Imperfection. Ilepatica ; Confidence. Hibiscus ; Short-lived Beauty. Hickory; Glory. Hoarhound ; Frozen Kindness. Holly ; Foresight. Hollyhock ; Fecundity. Honeysuckle ; Fidelity. Honeysuckle (Wild) ; Inconstancy. Hop ; Injustice. Hornbeam ; Ornament. Horse Chestnut ; Luxury. Hortensia ; You are cold. Houstonia; Content Hoya; Sculpture. Hundred-leaved Rose ; Graces. Hyacinth ; Grief. Hydrangea ; Heartlessness. Iceland Moss ; Health. Ice Plant ; Frirfdity. Indian Cress ; Resignation. Indian Jasmine ; I attach myself to you. Iris ; Message. Ivy; Friendship. Jacob's Ladder ; Come down to me. Japan Rose ; Beauty is your only Attraction. Japonica ; Excellence. Jessamine, or Jasmine ; Amiability. Jessamine (Virginian) ; Soul of my Soul. Jonquil ; Is my Affection returned ? Judas Tree ; Unbelief. Juniper; Protection. Justitia ; Perfection of Female Loveliness. :@ @: : FLORAL DICTIONARY. 271 i Kennedia ; Mental Beauty. Kingcup ; I wish I was rich. Laburnum ; Pensiveness. Ladies' Delight j Forget me not Lady's Slipper; Capnciousness. Larch; Boldness. Larkspur ; Fickleness. Laurel ; Fame. Laurustinus ; I die if neglected. Lavender: Acknowledgment. Lemon; Zest. Lettuce; Ooldhearted. Lichen ; Solitude. Lilac; First Emotions of Love. Lilac (White) ; Youth. Lily of the ValleVj; Unwoticed Affection. Lime or Linden Tree ; Conjugal Love. Live Oak : Liberty. Lobelia; Splendor. Locust ; Affection beyond the Grave. London Pride ; Frivolity. Lotus; Estrangement. Love in a Mist ; Perplexity. Love in a Puzzle ; Embarrassment. Love Lies Bleeding ; Hopeless, not heartless. Lucem ; Life. Lupine; Voraciousness. Lychnis ; Religious Enthusiasm. LytUrum ; Pretension. Madder; Calumny. Madwort (Rock) ; Tranquillity. Maidenhair ; Discretion, Secrecy. Maize; Plenty. Magnolia: Peerless and proud. Mallow ; Mild or sweet Disposition. Manchineel Tree ; Falsehood. Mandrake; Rarity. Maple; Reserve. Marjoram; Blushes. Marshmallow ; Humanity. Marvel of Peru ; Timidity. Marigold ; Inquietude. Maritrold (Small Cape) ; Presage. May Rose ; Precocity. Meadow Saffron ; My best Days are past. Meadowsweet ; Uselessness. Mercury ; Goodness. Mesembryanthemum ; Idleness. Mezereon ; Love in a Snow Wreath. Michaelmas Daisy ; Farewell. Mignonette ; Moral Worth. Milk Vetch ; Your Presence softens myPain. Mimosa; Sensitiveness. Mint; Virtue. Mistletoe ; Not discouraged. Mock Orange ; Counterfeit Monk's Hood ; Knight Errantry. Moonwort ; Forgetfulness. Moschatel ; Weak, but winning. Moss ; Maternal Affection. Moss Rose ; Pleasure without alloy. Mossy Saxifrage ; Maternal Love. Motherwort ; Secret Love. Mountain Ash ; Prudence. Mouse Ear Chickweed; Ingenious Simpli- Moving I'lant ; Agitation. [city. Mulberry Tree (White) ; Wisdom. Mulberry Tree (Black) ; I will not survive you. Mushroom; Suspicion. Musk Crowfoot ; Weakness. Musk Rose ; Capricious Beauty. Myosotis, or Mouse Ear ; Forget me not Myrobalan; Privation. Myrtle ; Love in Absence. Narcissus (False) ; Delusive Hope. Narcissus (Poet's) ; Egotism, or Self-love. Nasturtium; Patriotism. Nettle ; Cruelty. Night-Blowing Cereus ; Transient Beauty. Nightshade ; Dark Thoughts. Nosegay; Gallantry. Oak ; Hospitality. Oats ; The witching Soul of Music hers. Oleander ; Warning, or Beware. Olive ; Peace. Orchis ; A Belle. Orange Flowers ; Chastity. Orange Tree ; Generosity. Osier ; Frankness. Oxeye; Patience. Palm; Victory. Pansy, or Heart's Ease ; Think of me. Parsley ; Entertainment, Feasting. Passion Flower; Religious Superstition. Patience Dock ; Patience. Pasque Flower ; You are without Pretension. Pea ; An appointed Meeting. Pea (Everlasting) ; Wilt thou go ? Pea (Sweet) ; Departure. Peach Blossom ; I am your Captive. Pennyroyal ; Flee away. Peony ; Bashful Shame. Pepper Plant ; Satire. Periwinkle; Early Friendship. Persimmon ; Bury me amid Nature'i Beau- [ties. Persicaria ; Restoration. Peruvian Heliotrope ; I trust in thee. Petunia ; Elegance without Pride. Pheasant's Eye, or Flos Adonis ; Sorrowful Remembrances. Phlox ; Our Souls are united. Pimpernel; Assignation. Pine; Pity. Pineapple ; You are perfect Pink ; Lovely and pure Affection. Pink, (China) ; Aversion. Pink (Red) ; Woman's Love. Pink (White) ; Fair and fascinating. Plane Tree ; Genius. Plum Tree ; Keep your Promises. Plum Tree (Wild) ; Independence. Polyanthus ; Confidence. Pofrito ; Beneficence. Pomegranate ; Foolishness. Poppy (Red) ; Evanescence. Poppy (White) ; Oblivion in Sleep. Prickly Pear ; Satire. Pride of China ; Discussion. Primrose ; Modest Worth. Primrose (Evening) ; Inconstancy. Privet; Prohibition. Purple Clover ; Provident. Pyramidal Bell Flower ; Gratitude. I^rus Japonica ; Fairies' Fire. Quamoclet; Busybody. Queen's Rocket; You s quettes. Ragged Robin ; Wit Ranunculus ; You are radiant with Charms.^ Red Bay ; Love's Memory. Red Mulberry ; Wisdom. Red Shanks ; Patience. Rest Harrow ; Obstacle. Rhododendron ; Danger. Rocket; Rivalry. Rose; Beauty. Rose (Burgundy) ; Simplicity. I the Queen of Co- -4> @-- 272 FLORAL DICTIONARY. ^ Rose (Acacia) ; Elegance. Rose (Bridal) ; Happy Love. Rose (Carolina) ; Love is dangerous. Rose (Multiflora) ; Grace. Rose (Versicolor) ; Mirthfulness. Rose (Musk) ; Charming. Rose (Moss) ; Superior Merit. Rose (Yellow) ; We -mil be Strangers. Rosebud (Moss) ; Confession of Love. Rosebud (White) ; Too young to love. Rosebud ; Youthful Charms. Roses (A Garland of) ; Reward of Virtue. Rosebay Willow Herb ; Celibacy. Rooe Campion ; You are without Pretension. Rosemary ; Affectionate Remembrance. Rose-scented Geranium; Preference. Rudbeckia ; Justice. Rue ; Grace, or Purification. Rush; Docility. Saffron ; Marriase. Saffron Flower ; "Excess is dangerous. Saffron Crocus ; Mirth. Sage ; Esteem. Sardony; Irony. Scabius ; Unfortunate Attachment. Scarlet Fuchsia ; Taste. Scarlet Ipomaea, or Indian Jasmine ; I at- tach myself to you. Scotch Fir ; Elevation. Sensitive Plant ; Timidity. Serpentine Cactus; Horror. Service Tree ; Prudence. Shaking Sainfoin ; A^tation. Siberian Crab Tree Blossom ; Deeply inter- esting. Sidesaddle Flower; Will you pledge me ? Silver Fir; Elevation. Small Bindweed; Obstinacy. Small White Violet ; Candor and Innocence. Snapdragon ; Dazzling, but dangerous. Snowball ; Thoughts of Heaven. Snowdrop ; Hope in Sorrow. Sorrel ; Wit ill timed Southernwood ; Jest, or Bantering. Spanish Jasmine ; Sensuality. Spider Ophrys ; Skill, Adroitness. Spiderwort ; Transient Hapjjiness. Spindle Tree ; Your image is engraven on my Heart Spiked Speedwell ; Resemblance. Spirae Hypericum Frutex ; Uselessness. Squirting Cucumber ; Critic. St. John^ Wort ; Superstitious Sanctity. Star of Bethlehem ; Reconciliation. Stock or Gilly Flower ; Lasting Beauty. Stramonium (Common) ; Disguise. Strawberry ; Perfect Excellence. Striped Pink ; Refusal. Sumach; Splendor. Sunflower ; Smile on me still. Swallow wort 5 Medicine. Sweet Brier, or Eglantine ; Poetry. Sweet Flag j Fitness. Sweet Pea ; Delicate Pleasure. Sweet Soltan ; Felicity. Sweet-scented Tussilage ; You shall have Justice. Sweet Violet ; Modesty. Sweet William ; HoUowncss, or Treachery. Sycamore ; Woodland Beauty. ^nringa; Memory. Tamarisk; Crime. Tansy; Courage. Teasel; Misanthropy. Ten Weeks' Stock ; Prompitude. Thistle ; Never forget. Thorn Apple ; Deceitful Charms. Thrift; Sympathy. Throatwort ; Neglected Beauty. Thyme; Activity. Tremella Nostoc ; Resolve the Mddle. Truffle; Surprise. Tiger Flower ; For once may Pride befriend me. Tree of Life; Old Age. Tuft of Moss ; Maternal Love. Tulip ; Beautiful Eyes. Tulip (Red) ; Declaiation of Love. Turnip; Charity. Valerian (Red) ; Accommodating Disposi- tion. Various-colored Lantana; Rigor. Verbena ; Sensibility. Vernal Grass ; Poor, but happy. Vervain; Enchantngent. Venus's Car ; Fly \th me. Venus's Flytrap ; ifcve I caught you nt last? Venus's Looking CMss | Flattery, or Vanity. Vine ; Intoxication. Violet (Blue) ; Faithfulness. Violet (White) ; Modesty. Virgin's Bower ; Artifice. Virginian Spiderw^ort ; Momentary Happi- ness. Volkamenica Japonica; May you be happy. Wall Flower ; Fidelity in Misfortune. Wall Speedwell ; Fidelity. Water Lilv ; Eloquence. Walnut (Black) ; Intellect. Walking Leaf ; How came you here ? Watermelon ; Bulkiness. Water Star ; Beauty combined with Piety. Wax Plant ; Susceptibility. Wax Myrtle ; I will enlighten you. Weeping Willow ; Forsaken Lover. Wheat; Riches. White Jasmine ; Amiableness. White Lilac; Youth. White Lily ; Purity and Modesty. White Mullein ; Good Nature. White Oak ; Independence. White Pink ; Talent. White Poplar ; Time. White Poppy ; Sleep of the Heart. White Rose ; Silence. White Rose (Dried) ; Death preferable to Loss of Innocence. White Rosebud ; The Heart that knows not Love. White Violet ; Candor. Wild or Dog Rose ; Simplicity. Willow ; Forsaken. Willow Herb ; Pretension. Winter Cherry ; Deception. Witch Hazel ; A Spell. Wood Sorrel ; Joy. Woodbine ; Fraternal Lore. Wormwood; Absence. Yarrow ; Cure for the Heartache. Yellow Carnation ; Disdain. Yellow Day Lily ; Coquetry. Yellow Gentian ; Ingratitude. Yellow Iris ; Flame. Yellow Rose ; Infidelity. Yew; Sorrow. Zinnia; Absence. (^ ^ 14 DAY USE RN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. 4]un'64UA REC'D LI> JUN30'64-8 PM iwt *^ m REC'D lO MARSQ-^^-^^^'?^ LBS 2 1972 m ^ 2002 HEC ' DFU^l MOV taeio 8 2002 LD 21A-40m-ll,'63 (E1602slO)476B General Library University of California Berkeley Az: