266 THE LEMON-PLANT. 



Her hand supplied llie flowers that adorned the 

 cradle of the Irish bahy ; and often did she haslea 

 to present me with the first and freshest buds of 

 ]\lay, assuring me of her fervent prayers on behalf 

 of tiie dear ihouf^h distant, and to her unknown, 

 antitype of those flagrant blossoms. To her I 

 took the Passion-flower; and the nun, whom she 

 personally knew, fornied the theme of numberless 

 convcrsalioos between us; while there also, I had 

 the help of her persevering prayers. So intimate- 

 ly was she acquainted with all most interesting to 

 me, that I have almost marvelled she shouKI not 

 have broken through the lengthened silence, won 

 to renew the correspondence by the touching of a 

 chord in her sensitive bosom, that never failed to 

 respond. Alas ! I little thought that she had gone 

 to rejoice with those who had awakened so intense 

 an interest in us : and that the Lemon-plant, or 

 Verbena, a sweet shrub which I liad, from the 

 first day of our acquaintance, held in a manner 

 sacred to her, was soon to be placed among the 

 mementos of the dead. 



As I have before remarked, my floral associations 

 arc very aibilrary. They are sometimes founded 

 on a resemblance, traced between the individual 

 and the flower; but more frequently upon some 

 incident that has connected them : and then I love 

 to follow up the union, by making out some actual 

 point of likeness. Not a few of my bcsi-loved 



