^be fragrant IRote IBooJx 



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very like humans, sharing many of their faults and foibles. 

 *"Tis an observation," you will remember, "of flatterers 

 that they are like the heHo trope; they open only towards the 

 sun, but shut and contract themselves in cloudy weather." 



And this you see has brought us to the far corner of our- 

 old-fashioned garden where we may walk "by a cornfield's 

 side aflutter with poppies" in the midst of which it is easy to 

 imagine the ancient goddess Ceres, a tall and willowy lady, 

 carrying in her right hand the blazing poppies which are her 

 emblem and which she seems just to have plucked fresh 

 from grandam's garden. How clear a type of the world in 

 general may we find in this flaming flower as she lavishly 

 furnishes us with her beauty, sustenance or a purgatory for 

 our choice. Which do we take, — the unrivalled brilliance of' 

 her blossom, the nutriment of her innocent and palatable oil, 

 or the desolating scourge of her opiuni gum? She offers 

 them all with equally smiling grace, leaving man to make his 

 wise or foolish selection with the right to bless or curse 

 himself as he will. Chaste beauty is his for the taking 



^' Like a white poppy sinking on the plain 

 Whose heavy head is overcharged with rain," 



Or, being in worse estate, he may consort with the grass- 

 hopper of whom Lovelace satirically says "when his poppy 

 works, then he must retire to his carved acorn bed to lie." 

 All flowers thus have good in them, and some a little evil; 

 but highland or lowland, grandam loves each with enduring 



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