160 



ON THE ROSE. 



A perfumer in Paris who made otto of Roses for the court of 

 Louis the Sixteenth, says, that it required four thousand pounds 

 weight of rose leaves to produce seventeen ounces of the oil. 



Of the birth of the rose, it is related in fable, that Flora having 

 found the corpse of a favourite nymph, whose beauty of person was 

 only surpassed by the purity of her heart and chastity of mind, 

 resolved to raise a plant from the precious remains of this daugh- 

 ter of the dryads, for which purpose she begged the assistance of 

 Venus and the Graces, as well as all the deities that preside over 

 gardens, to assist in the transformation of the nymph into a flower, 

 that was to be by them proclaimed queen of all the vegetable 

 beauties. The ceremony was attended by the Zephyrs, who 

 cleared the atmosphere, in order that Apollo might bless the new 

 created progeny with his beams. Bacchus supplied rivers of 

 nectar to nourish it, and Vertumnus poured bis choicest per- 

 fumes over the plant. When the metamorphosis was complete, 

 Pomona strewed her fruit over the young branches, which were 

 then crowned by Flora with a diadem, that had been purposely 

 prepared by the celestials to distinguish this queen of flowers. 



Anacreon's birth of the rose stands thus translated by Moore : 



" Oh ! whence could such a plant have sprung ? 



Attend — for thus the tale is sung : 



When, humid from the silvery stream, 



Venus appear'd, in flushing hues, 



Mellow'd by Ocean's briny dews — 



When, in the starry courts above, 



The pregnant brain of mighty Jove 



Disclosed the nymph of azure glance— 



The nymph who shakes the martial lance ■. 



Then, then, in strange eventful hour, 



The earth produced an infant flower. 



Which spruug, with blushing tinctures drest, 



And wanton'd o'er its parent's breast. 



The gods beheld this brilliant birth, 



And hail'd the rose — the boon of earth ! 



With nectar drops, a ruby tide, 



The sweetly orient buds they dyed, 



And bade them bloom, the flowers divine 



Of him who sheds the teeming vine: 



And bade them on the spangled thorn 



Expand thsir b»soms to the morn." 



(To be continued.) 



