ROSA LUTEA- THE YELLOW ROSE. 
Class XXII. ICOSANDRIA. Order I. MONOGYNIA. 
Natural Order, ROSACE JL — THE ROSE TRIBE. 
Prickles of branches crowded, unequal, slender, reflexed, of the branchlets small and nearly equal; 
leaflets flat, glabrous, simply serrated. H. Native of North America and Siberia. Flowers pale yellow. 
Fruit large, ovate, black. 
The Plant of Roses, though it be a shrub full of prickles, yet it had bin more fit and conuenient to 
haue placed it with the most glorious floures of the world, than to insert the same here among base and 
thorny shrubs, for the rose doth deserue the chief and prime place among all floures whatsoever ; beeing 
not onely esteemed for his beauty, vertues and his fragrant and odoriferous smell; but also, because it is 
the honor and ornament of our English Scepter, as by the conjunction appeareth ; in the uniting of those 
two most Royall Houses of Lancaster and Yorke. — Gerarde’s Herbal. 
“It would be as foolish,” says Professor Burnett, “to attempt to praise as to paint the rose. The rose 
requires no commendation here. Perhaps from such a notion it might be, that this flower was considered 
the symbol of silence ; for we are told that the goddess Isis, and her son Harpocrates, were crowned with 
chaplets of roses.” 
We borrow the following passages from that ingenious and agreeable work, “The Sentiment of 
Flowers.” 
Rose ! thou art the sweetest flower. 
That ever drank the amber shower ; 
Rose ! thou art the fondest child 
Of dimpled spring, the wood nymph wild ! 
Moore’s Anacreon. 
This beautiful flower, and universal favourite of nature, has never been described in language adequate 
to convey an idea of its charms, although each poet in turn has made it the theme of song, or introduced 
eulogiums on its beauty to heighten the attraction of his poesy. 
Not one of all the train has, however, been able to do justice to its merits, though they have de- 
nominated it the daughter of heaven, the ornament of the earth, and the glory of spring. 
When it opens its delicate buds, the eye surveys its harmonious outlines with delight. But how shall 
we describe the delicate tints of its enchanting colours, or the sweet perfume which it exhales ? Behold in 
the spring it raises itself softly in the midst of its elegant foliage, surrounded by its numerous buds. This, 
the queen of flowers, and the pride of Flora, seems to sport with the air that fans her, to deck herself with 
the dew-drops that impearl her, and to smile upon the rays of the sun which cause the expansion of her 
beautiful form. 
Proud be the rose, with rains and dews 
Her head impearling. Wordsworth. 
In producing this flower, nature appears to have exhausted herself by her prodigality, in attempting 
to produce so fine a specimen of freshness, of beauty in form, of exquisite perfume, of brilliancy of colour, 
and of grace. The rose adorns the whole earth, as it is the commonest of flowers. The same day that its 
beauty is perfected it dies ; but each spring restores it to us with renewed freshness. Poets have had fair 
opportunities for singing its praises, yet they have not rendered its eulogy common-place, but its name 
alone redeems their names from forgetfulness. Emblem of all ages, — interpreter of all our sentiments, — 
the rose mingles in the gaiety of our feasts, in our happiness, and in our sorrows. It is also the ornament 
of beauty, and lends its soft carnation hues to the blush of modesty. It is given as the prize of virtue; 
it is the image of youth, of innocence, and of pleasure. Venus is said to feel that she has a rival in the rose, 
as it possesses, like her, a grace which is more lovely than beauty itself. 
Anacreon, the poet of love, has celebrated the rose ; and, perhaps, he has sung its praise more worthily 
than any of his successors. Moore has thus translated the Ode : — 
While we invoke the wreathed spring, 
Resplendent rose ! to thee we’U sing ; 
Resplendent rose, the flower of flowers, 
Whose breath perfumes Olympus’ bowers ; 
Whose virgin blush, of chasten’d dye, 
Enchants so much our mortal eye. 
When pleasure’s bloomy season glow*, 
The Graces love to twine the rose ; 
