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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
Mrs. SCOTT-- My Child.
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.
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
Cymbeline. Act I. Sc. 6.
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
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.
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.
i. Winter's Tale. Act IV. Sc. 3.
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.
The rustic arbor, which the summit crowned
shade. k. BAYARD TAYLOR- The Poet's Journal
First Evening. The violet loves a sunny bank,
The cowslip loves the lea;
But I love--thee.
Strew me the ground with daffodowndillies,
Song. St. 12.
enough; And sweet is moly, but his root is ill.
d. SPENSER-Sonnet XXVI.
And hid beneath the grasses, wet
With long carouse, a honeyed crew,
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.
And the sweet June roses died!
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.
Dim are such, beside the breaking
ever do. j. E. B. BROWNING--A Child Asleep.
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;
Who art not one with them.
My fancy will not let thee be, -
ELAINE GOODALE— Anemone.
Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed,
Immortal amaranth, a flower which once
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,
Their buds in Camadera's quiver.
afraid, Sure of the refreshing that they always find.
MARGARET J. PRESTON- Unvisited.
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.
From the soft wing of vernal breezes shed,
A scarlet rain; the yellow violet
wet, And all the streams with vernal-scented reed Were fringed, and streaky bells of miskodeed.
e. BAYARD TAYLOR-- Mon-Da-Min. St. 42.
For her jewels gone-
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.
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.
The borage gleams more blue;
Glimmer the rich dusk through.
Summer Night. Pt. III.
Pyenanthemum. The basil tuft that waves, Its fragrant blossom over graves. b. MOORE--Lalla Rookh. Light of the
Faba. I know the scent of bean fields. c. JEAN INGELOW--- Gladys and Her
Island Line 243.
Line 35. Thy fruit full well the schoolboy knows,
Wild bramble of the brake!
I love it for his sake.
O’er all the fragrant bowers,
Thy satin-threaded flowers;
That cannot feel how fair,
Thy tender blossoms are!
How rich thy branching stem!
And thou sing'st hymns to them,
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.
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.
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,
Among the green!
Present. St. 3.
h. GEORGE MacDONALD - - Wild Flowers.
Oh! roses and lilies are fair to see;
i. LOUISA A. MEREDITH -- The Blue-bell.