POETEY OF THE ROSE. 



CHAPTER VIII. 



Round every flower there gleams a glory, 

 Bequeathed by antique song or story; 

 To each old legends give a name, 

 And its peculiar charm proclaim. 

 O'er smiling lawn, through shady grove, 

 Our dreaming poets pensive rove, 

 And strive to read their language rare, 

 And learn the lesson latent there." 



OETRY has been defined to be that which 



suggests to the mind glowing thoughts and 

 pleasant images. We have the poetry of mo- 

 tion, whether displayed in the beautiful and 

 bounding steps of a noble stag, the spirit-stir- 

 ring course of the Arabs' favorite, or the grace- 

 ful gait and winning gestures of a beautiful 

 and highly cultivated woman. We have, too, the poetry of form, 

 whether dwelling in the quiet beauty of Trinity spire, leaning 

 against the clear, blue sky, or whether breathing in the many 

 forms of natural beauty around us the ever-varying expression 

 of an intellectual human face, the rippling course of flowing 

 and shaded waters, the stately oak of the forest, the quivering 

 leaf upon the tree, or the simple flower of the field. Willis dis- 

 courses eloquently upon unwritten music and the various pleas- 

 ant tones breathed by Nature into the ear of him whose spirit is 

 attuned to their harmony. So, also, the world is full of unwrit- 

 ten poetry ; it is everywhere around us, and always visible to 

 the eye that is accustomed to look for its presence. There is 

 poetry in the dreariness of winter, in the purity of the quiet- 



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