Shame, Peon 
Thou h&ngest bashfully thy head, 
Thy broad round face is ruby red ; 
As though suffused with conscious shame. 
And worthy of reproach and blame. 
Sickness, Wood Anemony. 
So sudden fades the sweet Anemone, 
The feeble stems to stormy winds a prey. 
Their sickly beauties droop and pine away.” 
Thus Ovid sang long ages since, and we. 
In these frail dowers emblems of sickness see. 
Silence. Lotus. 
The God of Silence on his brow 
Beaceth the Lotus dower, -'tis said; 
And Indian poets tell us how 
The god whose shafts have ever sped 
In silent swiftness to their mark. 
Made of this dower a silken bark. 
Simplicity, Egia] 
The sweet uncultivated rose. 
With simple beauty glows, 
And every eye admires 
That which ne’er cloys nor tires, 
Sincerity, Garden Chervil. 
Tis an old fable, that the Scandix leaf. 
If eaten, cheers but not inebriates ; 
But with a generous impulse prompts the heart. 
To utter all it thinks and ail it feels. 
