LAURUSTINUS. 



(Continued.) 



She knew whose hand had gathered them, she knew 

 Whose sigh and touch were on their scent and hue. 



Pickersgill. 



LAVENDER. 

 Lavandula. 



Distrust. 



Trust him not ; his words, though sweet, 



Seldom with his heart do meet : 



All his practice is deceit. B. Jonson. 



The language that flows from the heart, 



Is a stranger to Paridel's tongue. . . . Shenstone. 



'Tis his with mock passion to glow, 



'Tis his, with smooth tales, to unfold, 



How her face is as bright as the snow, 



And her bosom, be sure, is as cold same. 



LEMON BLOSSOM. 



Citrus limon. 



Discretion. And from the precipice's brink retire, 



Afraid to venture on so large a leap. . . . Dryden. 



Press me not, 'beseech you so ; 



There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' th' world, 



So soon as yours, could win me Shaks, 



His air, his voice, his looks, and honest soul, 



Speak all too movingly in his behalf, 



I dare not trust myself to hear him talk. . Addison. 



Our separate fortune 

 Shall keep us both the safer same. 



She will not stay the siege of loving terms, 



Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes. . . same. 



Prudent, lest from her resolution rais'd. . . Milton. 

 So far hath discretion fought with nature. . . Shaks. 



LICHEN. 

 Tree Moss. 



Solitude. Wisdom's self 



Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude ; 

 Where, with her best nurse, contemplation, 

 She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings, 

 That in the various bustle of resort 

 Were all too ruffled, and sometimes impair'd. 



Milton. 



