secretary's budget. 467 



'Tis Flora's page : in every place, 



In every season, fresh and fair, 

 It opens with parennial grace. 



And blossoms everywhere. 



On waste and woodland, rock and plain. 



Its humble buds unheeded raise ; 

 The rose has but a summer reign, 



The daisy never dies. 



The rose, by universal suifrage, is made the queen of flowers, and 

 has a symbolism varying with its color. Wordsworth thus rejoices in 

 the union of the 'houses of Lancaster and York, whose emblems were 

 the red and white roses : 



Her thirty years of winter past, the red rose is revived at last ; 



She lifts her head for endless spring, for everlasting blossoming ; 



Both roses flourish red and white ; in love and sisterly delight, 



The two that were at strife or blended, and all old troubles now are ended. 



Flowers are also the emblems of several European countries, as the 

 Fleur-de-lis of France, the Thistle of Scotland, the Shamrock of Ireland. 



Flowers speak to us in a silent language and are linked with all 

 the finer sympathies of our natures. 



The sweet blossoms that cover the greenwood are the delight of our 

 childhood, they deck the chamber of old age and are the last sad gifts 

 of sorrow to the dead. 



Flowers are the bright remembrancers of youth ; 

 They waft us back, with their bland odorous breath. 

 The joyous hours that only young life knows, 

 Ere we have learnt that this fair earth hides graves. 

 They bring the cheek that's mouldering in the dust 

 Again before us, tinged with health's own rose ; 

 They bring the voices we shall hear no more. 

 Whose tones are sweetest music to our ears ; 

 . They bring the hopes that faded one by one, ' 



Till naught was left to light our path but faith, 

 That we too, like the flowers, should spring to life. 

 But not, like them, again e'er fade again or die. 



