Friendship. 
Ivy. 
— December 8tb — 
Autumn no wan nor russet stain 
Upon its fadeless glory flings ; 
And Winter o’er it sweeps in vain 
With tempest on his wings.— B. Barton. 
Quince. — 9tb — I prefer You. 
As a quince-tree among the trees of the wood, 
So is my beloved among the young men. 
Under his shadow do I long to sit, 
And his. fruit is sweet to my palate. 
Irish Ivy. — lOtb — Clinging Affection. 
I THINK of thee ! my thoughts do twine and bud 
About thee, as wild vines about a tree. 
Mrs. Browning. 
Fern Moss. — lltb — Content 
Divine content! 
Oh ! could the world resent, 
How much of bliss doth lie 
Wrapp’d up in thy delicious name. 
Beaumont. 
Torch Thistle. — I2tb — I Bum. 
W HO hung thy beauty on such rugged stalk, 
Thou beauteous flower ? 
Who pour’d the richest hues, 
In varying radiance, o’er thine ample brow. 
Mrs. Sigourney. 
Bee Ophrys. 
-0 
— t3tb - 
How doth the little busy bee 
Improve each shining hour. 
And gather honey all the day 
From every opening flower. 
Dr. 
Industry. 
Watts. 
^ Ly. 
