ii8 



The Canadian Horticulturist. 



(^-— Rlov/er^^ -^Sg3 



LINES ON THE FOXGLOVE. 



Sir, — I see " Grandma Gowan " still contributes to your Journal, and now Grandma Man- 

 ley sends a few lines. We belong to the past, and must ere long leave this cold, calculating 

 generation to solve their evolution problems, and it may be, like the alchemists a few. cen- 

 turies ago, trying to find the " Elixir of Life." " History repeats itself." — M. W. Manley. 



I know they are gathering the Foxglove's bell, 

 And the long fern leaves, by the sparkling well, 



— Mrs. Hemans. 



PRIENDSHIPS when formed will always last, 

 If based on true esteem, 

 When lost to sight in memory's urn, 

 Their names are fresh and green. 



The plants that Bloomed in childhood's days, 



Which in our homes had place, 

 We love to see their names restored 



With super-added grace. 



« 

 The Foxglove reared its stately form 



In Devon's hedge-rows green. 



Where various flowers of many a hue, 



And Primroses were seen. 



And tufts of violets white and blue. 



With fragrance filled the air ; 

 The spicy woodbine climbed aloft 



And hung its petals there. 



And in the garden near the house, 



The Foxglove still had place 

 Among the lilies and the rose. 



Of Flora's royal race. 



Owen Sound, jfanuary, 1890. 



Mrs. Dr. Manley. 



