Siebold, to the Botanic Garden of Ghent. This 
consisted of upwards of twenty species, part only 
of which have yet reached England. 
The first enquiiy of any one intending to pur- 
chase this plant, would be, “Is it hardy?” To 
this we reply, that in the Handsworth nursery it 
has nourished in the open border, in the front of a 
greenhouse, from the time it was first received ; 
notwithstanding this, we would advise, until its 
hardihood he further proved, that a little matting, 
moss, or straw, he placed over it, during winter. 
The heautiful Lily, rising from its scaly tomh, 
is prettily alluded to by Mrs. Tighe. 
“ How wither’d, perish'd, seems the form 
Of yon obscure, unsightly root! 
Yet from the blight of wintry storm, 
It hides secure the precious fruit. 
The careless eye can find no grace, 
No beauty in the scaly folds. 
Nor see within the dark embrace 
What latent loveliness it holds. 
Yet in that bulb — those sapless scales. 
The Lily wraps her silver vest, 
’Till vernal suns and vernal gales 
Shall kiss once more her fragrant breast. 
And thou, O Virgin Queen of Spring; 
Shalt, from the dark and lowly bed, 
Bursting thy green sheath’s silken string. 
Unveil thy charms, and perfume shed ; 
Unfold thy robes of purest white. 
Unsullied from their darksome grave. 
And thy soft petals silvery light. 
In the mild breeze unfetter’d wave.” 
