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Flowers preach to us if we will hear. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI - Consider the

Lilies of the Field. The lily, snowdrop, and the violet fair, And queenly rose, that blossoms for a day.

d. Mrs. SAWYER The Blind Girl. In the low vale the snow-white daisy

springeth, The golden dandelion by its side; The eglanıine a dewy fragrance flingeth To the soft breeze that wanders far and

wide.

Mrs. SCOTT-- My Child.
Here eglantine embalm’d the air,
Hawthorne and hazel mingle there;
The primrose pale and violet flower,
Found in cach cliff a narrow bower;
Fox-glove and night shade, side by side,
Emblems of punishment and pride,
Group'd their dark hues with every stain.
The weather beaten crags retain.
f. SCOTT— The Lady of the Lake.

Canto I. St. 12, The rose is fairest when 'tis budding new, And hope is brightest when it dawns from

fears. The rose is sweetest wash'd with morning

dew, And love is loveliest when embalm'd in tears. g. SCOTT-- The Lady of the Lake.

Canto II. St. 1.

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8.

The fairest flowers o' th' season Are our carnations, and streak'd gilly flowers. p.

Winter's Tale. Act IV. Sc. 3. The summer's flower is to the summer sweet, Though to itself it only live and die; But if that flower with base infection meet, The basest weed outbraves his dignity;

For sweetest things turn sourest by their

deeds, Lilies that fester smell fir worse than

weeds. 9.

Sonnet XCIV.
The violets, cowslips, and the primroses,
Bear to my closet:--

Cymbeline. Act I. Sc. 6.
Faint oxlips; tender blue bells at whos.

birth The sod scarce heaved.

SHELLEY- The Question. Then the pied windflowers, and the tulip tall, And narcissi, the fairest among them all, Who gaze on their eyes in the stream's recess, Till they die of their own dear loveliness,

t. SHELLEY - The Sensitive Plant. Pt. I There grew pied wind-flowers and violets,

Dasies, those pearled Arcturi of the earth, The constellated flower that never sets.

SHELLEY -- The Question. The snow-drops and then the violet, Arose from the ground with warm rain wet, And their breath was mixed with fresh odour,

sent From the turf, like the voice and the instru

ment.

SHELLEY— The Sensitive Plant. Pt. I Day stars! that ope your eyes with morn to

twinkle From rainbow galaxies of earth's creation, And dew-drops on her lonely altars sprinkle As a libation.

HORACE SMITH -- Ilymn to the Flourers. Ye bright mosaics! that with storied beauty

The floor of Nature's temple tessellate, What numerous emblems of instructive duty Your forms create!

HORACE Smith - Hymn to the Flowers.

u.

The violet in her greenwood bower,

Where birchen boughs with hazels mingle, May boast itself the fairest flower

In glen or copse, or forest dingle.
h. SCOTT-The Violet.

Daffodils,
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty; violets dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried ere they can behold
Bright Phæbus his strength, a malady
Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and
The crown-imperial; lilies of all kinds,
The flower-de-luce being one!

i. Winter's Tale. Act IV. Sc. 3.

t'.

10.

Flowers are like the pleasures of the world.

J. Cymbeline. Act IV. Sc. 2. In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue, and

white; Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery. Merry Wives of Windsor. Act V.

Sc. 5.

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The rustic arbor, which the summit crowned
Was woven of shining smilax, trumpet-vine,
Clematis and the wild white eglantine,
Whose tropical luxuriance overhung
The interspaces of the posts, and made
For each sweet picture frames of bloom and

shade. k. BAYARD TAYLOR- The Poet's Journal

First Evening. The violet loves a sunny bank,

The cowslip loves the lea;
The scarlet creeper loves the elm,

But I love--thee.
I. BAYARD TAYLOR-Proposal.

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Strew me the ground with daffodowndillies,
And cowslips, and king-cups, and loved

lillies.
SPENSER— The Shepherd's Calender.

Song. St. 12.
Sweet is the rose, but grows upon a brere;
Sweet is the juniper, but sharp his bough;
Sweet is the eglantine, but sticketh near;
Sweet is the firbloom, but its branches rough;
Sweet is the cypress, but its rind is tough;
Sweet is the nut, but bitter is his pill;
Sweet is the broom-flowre, but yet sour

enough; And sweet is moly, but his root is ill.

d. SPENSER-Sonnet XXVI.

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And hid beneath the grasses, wet

With long carouse, a honeyed crew,
Anemone and violet,
Yet rollicking, are drunk with dew.
HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD-

Daybreak. For here the violet in the wood

Thrills with the sweetness you shall take, And wrapped away from life and love The wild rose dreams, and fain would

wake. s. HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD—0, Soft

Spring Airs. There many a flower abstersive grew, Thy favourite flowers of yellow hue; The crocus and the daffodil, The cowslip, and sweet jonquil. g. SWIFT-A Panegyric on the Dean.

Line 249.
The violets ope their purple heads;
The roses blow, the cowslip springs.
h. Swift-Answer to a Scandalous Poem.

Line 150.
Primrose-eyes each morning ope
In their cool, deep beds of grass;
Violets make the air that pass
Tell-tales of their fragrant slope.
Bayard TAYLOR--Ariel in the Cloven

Pine. I

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ARBUTUS, TRAILING.

Epigæa Repens.
The May-flowers bloomed and perished,

And the sweet June roses died!
g.
JULIA C. R. DORR—Margery Grey.

St. 18. Gather the violet shy, The mayflower pale and lone.

h. ELAINE GOODALE-- Welcome.

The shy little Mayflower weaves her nest, But the south wind sighs o'er the fragrant

loam, And betrays the path to her woodlanıl home. i. SARAH HELEN WHITMAN- The Waking

of the Heart. AMARANTH.

Amarantus.
Nosegays! leave them for the waking,
Throw them earthward where they grew,

Dim are such, beside the breaking
Amaranths he looks unto.
Folded eyes see brighter colors than the open

ever do. j. E. B. BROWNING--A Child Asleep.

0.

AMARYLLIS.

Amaryllis.
Where, here and there, on sandy beaches
A milky-bell’d amaryllis blew.
n. TENNYSON -- The Daisy.

ANEMONE.

Anemone. The fairy-formd, flesh-hued anemone, With its fair sisters, culled by country people Fair maids o'the spring. The lowly cinque

foil, too, And statelier marigold. JAMES N. BARKER.

Gay circles of anemones Danced on their stalks; the shad-bush, white

with flowers, Brightened the glens. p. BRYANT- The Old Man's Counsel.

Within the woods, Whose young and half transparent leaves

scarce cast A shade, gay circles of anemones Danced on their stalks.

9. BRYANT The Old Man's Counsel. Thou didst not start from common ground,

So tremulous on thy slender stem;
Thy sisters may not clasp thee round

Who art not one with them.
Thy subtle charm is strangely given,

My fancy will not let thee be, -
Then poise not thus 'twixt earth and heaven
O white anemone!

ELAINE GOODALE— Anemone.

Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed,
And daffodillies fill their cups with tears,
To strew the Laureate hearse where Lyciad

lies.
k. MOLTON - Lycidas. Line 149.

Immortal amaranth, a flower which once
In Paradise, fast by the tree of life,
Began to bloom; but soon for Man's offence,
To heav'n remov'd, where first it grew, there

grows,
And flow'rs aloft shading the fount of life.
la MILTON--Paradise Lost. Bk. III.

Line 353.

FLOWERS ANEMONE.

FLOWERS--AZALIA.

133

Anemone, so well Named of the wind, to which thou art all free. a. GEORGE MACDONALD-- Wild Flowers.

Line 9. Anemones and seas of Gold,

And new-blown lilies of the river,
And those sweet flow'rets that unfold

Their buds in Camadera's quiver.
0. MOORE--Lalla Rookh. Light of the

Harem.
A spring upon whose brink the anemones
And hooded violets and shrinking ferns
And tremulous woodland things crowd un-

afraid, Sure of the refreshing that they always find.

MARGARET J. PRESTON- Unvisited.

ASPHODEL.

Asphodelus.
With her ankles sunken in asphodel
She wept for the roses of earth.

j. E. B. BROWNING— Calls on the Heart. By the streams that ever flow, By the fragrant wind that blow

O'er th' Elysian flow'rs: By those happy souls who dwell In yellow mends of Asphodel.

k. POPE-Ode on St. Cecilia's Day.

ASTER.

Aster.

From the soft wing of vernal breezes shed,
Anemonies, auriculas, enriched
With shining meal o'er all their velvet leaves.
d. THOMSON - The Seasons. Spring.

Line 633.
AQUILEGIA.

A. Canadensis.
The aquilegia sprinkled on the rocks

A scarlet rain; the yellow violet
Sat in the chariot of its leaves; the phlox
Held spikes of purple flame in meadows

wet, And all the streams with vernal-scented reed Were fringed, and streaky bells of miskodeed.

e. BAYARD TAYLOR-- Mon-Da-Min. St. 42.

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ARBUTUS.

Epigæa Repens.
Darlings of the forest!

Blossoming alone
When Earth's grief is sorest

For her jewels gone-
Ere the last snow-drift melts your tender

buds have blown. f. Rose T. COOKE— Trailing Arbutus. Now the tender, sweet arbutus

Trails her blossom-clustered vines, And the many-fingered cinquefoil

In the shady hollow twines. g. DORA READ GOODALE- May. Hail the flower whose early bridal makes the

festival of Spring! Deeper far than outward meaning lies the

comfort she doth bring; From the heights of happy winning, Gaze we back on bope's beginning Feel the vital strength and beauty hidden

from our eyes before; And we know, with hearts grown stronger, Tho' our waiting seemeth longer, Yet with Love's divine assurance, we should

covet nothing more. R. ELAINE GOODALE— Trailing Arbutus. Pure and perfect, sweet arbutus Twines her rosy-tinted wreath. i ELAINE GOODALE- The First Flowers.

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BALDURSBRA.

Pyrethrum Inodorum. Purer than snow in its purity White as the foam-crested waves of the sea, Bloometh alone in the twilight gray, A flower, the gods call Baldursbra. C. C. BALDUR- Family Herald.

Vol. XXVII. P. 260.

BORAGE.

Borrago.
The flaming rose gloomed swarthy red;

The borage gleams more blue;
And low white flowers, with starry head,

Glimmer the rich dusk through.
j. GEORGE MACDONALD-Songs of the

Summer Night. Pt. III.

a.

BASIL.

Pyenanthemum. The basil tuft that waves, Its fragrant blossom over graves. b. MOORE--Lalla Rookh. Light of the

Harem.

BEAN.

Faba. I know the scent of bean fields. c. JEAN INGELOW--- Gladys and Her

Island Line 243.

BRAMBLE.

Rubus.
And swete as is the bremble flour
That bereth the reede keepe.
k. CHAUCER-- The Tale of Sir Thopas.

Line 35. Thy fruit full well the schoolboy knows,

Wild bramble of the brake!
So, put thou forth thy small white rose;

I love it for his sake.
Though woodbines flaunt and roses glow

O’er all the fragrant bowers,
Thou need'st not be ashamed to show

Thy satin-threaded flowers;
For dull the eye, the heart is dull

That cannot feel how fair,
Amid all beauty, beautiful

Thy tender blossoms are!
How delicate thy gauzy frill!

How rich thy branching stem!
How soft thy voice, when woods are still,

And thou sing'st hymns to them,
1. EBENEZER ELLIOT- To the Bramble

Flower.

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A pure large flower of simple mold,

And touched with soft peculiar bloom,

Its petals faint with strange perfume, And in their midst a disk of gold!

f. ELAINE GOODALE--- Bloodroot.

n.

Within the infant rind of this small flower Poison hath residence, and med'cine power: For this, being smelt, with that part cheers

each part: Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart. 9.

Romeo and Juliet. Act II. Sc. 3.

BUTTERCUP.

Ranunculus.
He likes the poor things of the world the

best;
I would not therefore, if I could be rich,
It pleases him to stoop for buttercups.
E. B. BROWNING— Aurora Leigh.

Bk, IV.
The buttercups, bright-eyed and bold,
Held up their chalices of gold
To catch the sunshine and the dew.
JULIA C. R. DORR--Centennial Poem.

Line 165. Buttercups of shining gold, And wealth of fairest flowers untold. Dora READ GOODALE- From Spring to

Fall. Against her ankles as she trod The lucky buttercups did nod. p.

JEAN INGELOW-- Reflections. And O the buttercups! that field

O'the cloth of gold, where pennons swamWhere France set up his lilied shield,

His oriflamb, ud Henry's lion-standard rolled;

What was it to their matchless sheen,
Their million million drops of gold

Among the green!
9.
JEAN INGELOW-The Letter L

Present. St. 3.

0.

BLUE-BELL.

Campanula.
Hang-head Bluebell,
Bending like Moses' sister over Moses,
Full of a secret that thou dar'st not tell!

h. GEORGE MacDONALD - - Wild Flowers.

Oh! roses and lilies are fair to see;
But the wild blue-bell is the flower for me.

i. LOUISA A. MEREDITH -- The Blue-bell.

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