224 DIAL OF FLOWERS. 



So, in those isles of delight, that rest 

 Far off in a breezeless main, 



Which many a bark, with a weary guest 

 Has sought, but still in vain. 



Yet is not life, in its real flight, 

 Marked thus — even thus — on earth. 



By the closing of one hope's delight, 

 And another's gentle birth ? 



Oh ! let us live so, that, flower by flower, 



Shutting in turn, may leave 

 A lingerer sti^l for the sunset hour, 



A charm for the shaded eve ! 



Hemans. 



When a plant is approaching its state of perfec- 

 tion, when its organs of nourishment are completely 

 developed, and its vegetation is most luxuriant, then 

 arrives the time of flowering, which has been aptly 

 termed " the joy of plants." The most superficial 

 observer must have noticed how different is the sea- 

 son of flowering of individual plants, and how each 

 month is adorned with its particular flowers. When 

 the intense cold of January confines us to our houses, 

 the Black Hellebore, or Christmas Rose, unfolds its 

 dazzling white blossoms ; in February, the innocent 

 Snowdrop presents to us her elegant cup. In the 

 same month the Hazel puts forth its catkins, and 

 not rarely the early-blooming Crowfoot shows the 



