133 
named, in Latine, Convolvulus, growing among shrubs 
and busbes, which carrieth a floure not unlike to 
the Lily, save tbat it yieldeth no smell. For white- 
nesse tbey resemble one another very much, as if 
nature, in making this floure, were a-learning, and 
trying her skill how to frame tbe Lily indeed.” 
How fair her pendent wreath 
O’er bush and brake is twining ; 
While meekly there beneath, 
Midst fern and blossomed heath, 
Her lovelier sister’s shining, 
Tinged with such gentle hues as streak 
A slumbering infant’s glowing cheek. 
Agnes Steickland. 
How delightful is it, in the quiet hour of evening, 
to wander through tbe corn-fields, to see the ears 
gently waving in the western breeze, and to hear 
their soft rustling ; and tben, as tbe eye glances over 
the whitening grain, to raise the heart in thankful- 
ness to the God of harvests, who provideth so richly 
for mankind. 
Ere the sickle is put in, the flowers hâve a fairer 
aspect than the corn. The scarlet pride of the 
Poppy, the hright hue of the Blue-bottle, and the 
N 
