226 THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
aniJ 
BY MISS S. STRICKLAND. 
Love, laughing to Ambition, said, 
e< Resign thine iron crown to me!” 
The mighty conqueror shook his head: 
46 My bride is Immortality ! ” 
With that the urchin drew his bow, 
And, smiling, fix’d his keenest dart; 
So true the aim', so sure the blow. 
It struck the tyrant to the heart 
The laurel wreath lies all unbound. 
The banner in the dust is furled. 
The trumpet spreads no terrors round ; 
What now to him is all the world ? 
■V- 
Violet, White.— Modesty. 
Sweet as spring-time flowers. — Shaks. 
Venus’ Looking-Glass. — Campanula Speculum. — Flat- 
tery. 
He does me double wrong who wounds with the flat- 
teries of his tongue. 
Virgin’s Bower. — Clematis. — Filial Affection. 
The sight an image brought of his own filial love. 
Dry den. 
Violet, Blue. — Viola Odorata. — Love. 
For thee I’ll lock up all the gates of love.— Shaks.. 
