44 
POETICAL LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
been compelled to acknowledge: showing that the 
language in which we express our admiration of the 
matchless loveliness of Woman, approaches so near our 
imperfect utterance of the adoration of heaven, that it 
is Love which first learns us to lisp the holier language 
that is wafted upward, and on the wings of prayer 
borne to the abode of the angels. In what a sea of 
bliss must the heart of the monarch have floated when, 
looking out of his casement over the green gardens of 
Jerusalem, he saw the whole landscape steeped in sun¬ 
shine, as if thrown back and reflected from a mirror of 
gold ; and gently awaking his beautiful and dark-eyed 
Egyptian bride, he breathed into her ear a sweet lay 
of love,—told her that the flowers had again appeared 
on the earth, that the singing birds had returned from 
distant climes, and the voice of the turtle was heard in 
the land,—that the grapes threw out a sweet smell, 
and the young roes were feeding among the lilies. He 
bade her come forth and show her beauty, like an 
apple-tree in full blossom, amid the greenery of the 
surrounding woods. While he murmured in her ear, 
and placed his left hand under her head, and she look¬ 
ed back upon him with half-averted eyes ;—the banner 
that waved over him was Love. He led her forth by 
