14 LANGUAGE OF FLOWEKS. 



preaching, have turned away unimproved and 

 uninstructed, for : 



"From the first bud, whose verdant head 



The winter's lingering tempest braves, 

 To those, which 'mid the foliage dead, 



Shrink latest to their annual graves j 

 All are for use, for health, or pleasure given, 

 All speak, in various ways, the bounteous hand of Heaven." 



CHARLOTTE SMITH 



These are the sentiments of a pure mind and 

 a lofty imagination, and the authoress of the 

 following words may well claim sisterhood with 

 her from whom they emanated : " And who 

 dare say that flowers do not speak a language, 

 a clear and intelligible language ? Ask WORDS- 

 WORTH, for to him they have spoken, until they 

 excited < thoughts that lie too deep for tears ;' 

 ask CHAUCER, for he held companionship with 

 them in the meadows ; ask any of the poets, 

 ancient or modern. Observe them, reader, love 

 them, linger over them, and ask your own 

 heart if they do not speak affection, benevolence, 

 and piety ?" In confirmation of this, we also 

 quote some stanzas from another poet, whose 



