3G THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
For thin, tall fops, I keep the Rush, 
For peasants still am Nightshade weeding ; 
For rakes, I’ve Devil -in- the- Bush, 
For sighing Strephons, lave-lm-Bleeding. 
But fairest blooms affection’s hand 
For constancy and worth disposes, 
And gladly weaves at your command, 
A wreath of Amaranths and Boses. 
TO VICTORIA. 
BY MISS LAXDON. 
V — IOLET, grace of the vernal year, 
Offered be thou to this spring-like reign, 
Is not thy tint to that Lady dear, 
Whose banner of blue is the lord of the 
main? 
I — vy, we twine of changeless green, 
Constant for ever in leaf and bough ; 
So may the heart of our gentle queen, 
Be always verdant and fresh as now. 
