FLOWERS OF THE MATIN AND EVEN SONG. 
375 
stead of these lovely forms being subsidiary to 
other objects, and becoming mere embellish- 
ments for the writers of poems, they form the 
foundation and the superstructure of whole 
volumes devoted wholly and solely to their 
praises, and we could find a library upon the 
subject of flowers alone. Some of these works 
are practical, some descriptive, some historical, 
but all interesting. The cultivation of flowers 
has called forth the efforts of many writers, 
who teach us what to grow and how to grow 
them. We have Gardening for Ladies, and 
Gardening for the Million, whole volumes de- 
voted to the Rose, the Tulip, and the Dahlia. 
"We have the Language of Flowers, and the 
Flowers of Poesy — in short, we have flowers 
of all hues, put to all uses, and if the world 
has run flower mad, let ns be thankful that 
there is both method and merit in the madness. 
Among the books which owe their existence 
to flowers, may be mentioned a tasty little 
volume, with coloured illustrations, entitled, 
" Flowers of the Matin and Even Song," by 
Mary Roberts. The idea is pretty, the 
writing pretty, and the subject pretty; what 
more can we say ? Let the authoress speak 
for herself: — 
"the daisy. 
" "Wee modest crimson-tipped flower, ' art 
thou too,' one of ' Flora's watches'* noting 
upon earth her progress in the heavens? The 
name of Robin is given to that fond bird, 
which, as legends tell, covered the innocent 
children with green leaves, when sleeping their 
last sleep in the lonely forest ; and to thee, a 
name is given, which tells of the sports of 
childhood, and of the love which has been 
shed upon thee from one generation to another. 
The daisy, then, is called bairnwort, from the 
delight with which the young are seen to 
gather it; the eye-of-day, because, while other 
flowers are still sleeping, no sooner does the 
sun appear on the horizon, than the daisy is 
awake. Who is there that does not love the 
daisy, la belle Marguerite of the French, the 
meadow-pearl, so called from its pearly look 
among the grass; the bonnie gem of the Ayr- 
shire ploughman, that ' wee modest crimson- 
tipped flower,' which is associated with all the 
sports of childhood, and all the delights of 
home ? A thousand indefinable emotions are 
blended with this simple flower ; it recalls to 
mind not only the race in the green meadow, 
or beside the wood walk ; the stringing of its 
emerald-tinted stars, when the petals had fallen 
off, and the butter-cups and primroses, which 
often lured our steps into the damp grass, or 
beside the streamlet's brink; but the home, 
* " Linnaeus gave the name of Flora's watches to all 
suoh flowers as close and open at certain hours of the 
day." 
the home, in which our young days passed, 
[t might have been a mansion or a cottage, 
but there our father watched over us, and 
there our mother smiled upon us; and over its 
blessed threshold, our brothers and our sisters 
went and came, and we too passed in and out, 
when roses blossomed beside the open door, 
or the snow lay cold and white upon the 
ground. The daisy is the flower which, of all 
others, calls up such wayward fancies: it is 
among flowers, what the cuckoo is among birds, 
and he who hears the one, or sees the other in 
a distant land, might break his heart in long- 
ing for all the hopes and joys, the comforts 
and the virtues which are comprised in that 
one word — home. The daisy, too, is the 
meekest looking of flowers ; it grows in mead 
or glade, on commons, or broken ground rough 
with stones and pebbles, on which few other 
plants will vegetate. Where the wind has 
deposited a scanty supply of earth, blown up 
from the dusty road, or swept from out the 
quarry, there the daisy will take root, and 
clothe the arid soil with beauty. There, too, 
the little hawkweed, concerning which I shall 
speak elsewhere, will sit beside her; the one 
to tell when the sun is about to rise, the other 
to remind the weary labourer, that he may 
rest from his work at noon. The daisy has 
also another simple task assigned her, and this 
she faithfully performs. She not only watches 
for the sun, when the day begins to dawn, but 
she tells of coming showers. She folds up her 
snowy or pink -tinted leaves around the golden 
disk which they encircle, when journeying 
clouds obscure the rays of the warm sun. And 
thus it often happens, that acres of waving 
grass, which have looked as if covered with a 
white sheet, are, by the effect of a coming 
shower, suddenly restored to their pristine 
verdure."— Pp. 12—15. 
This is but a portion of the matter devoted 
to the daisy, and it has besides the prose eulo- 
gium, a poem, in common with the rest of the 
flowers honoured with a notice. Our readers 
will observe that the subjects selected for no- 
tice are those flowers which undergo changes 
at different periods of the day. Having given 
a portion of the prose, we shall select one of 
the little poems, and for choice we take the 
Water Lily : — 
" That peerless lily to the light 
' Her chalice rears' of purest white ; 
And bees, and many coloured things. 
With dappled coats and glittering wings, 
Unceasing hum the leaves among, 
As if to swell the matin song 
That rises now from vale and glen, 
From warbling birds and grateful men. 
Each little insect's world of care, 
Perchance of visions, fond as fair, 
Of cherish'd homes and infant race. 
And all that charms their natal place. 
