126 POETICAL LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
and die away, and be no more. Not so with the Wall¬ 
flower : when all beside have perished and decayed, 
when the carved and vaulted roof has mouldered 
away, when the tall turret has fallen, stone by stone, 
and crumbled into dust, it shall still wave above the 
mound of buried ruins, like Beauty bending over, and 
silently contemplating Desolation ; the emblem of 
faithfulness in adversity, the garland with which Time 
shall enwreath the gray piles of silent and untrodden 
ruins, which, in his devastating march he has over¬ 
turned.” 
As many of the flowers thus passed through their 
hands, they gave to them some new charm which they 
had never before possessed; sometimes varying and 
mingling their fragrances together, and throwing a 
warm, pearly flush, over what was before of a pale and 
deathly hue. They gave a pale blush to the blossoms 
of the Hawthorn, and pressed the white roses to their 
cheeks, until they left on them every tinge, from the 
warm tint of beauty to the lily-whiteness of their own 
swan-like necks. Into some of the Violets they looked, 
until they partook of the hue of their own deep-blue 
eyes; and others, which were before of a dark purple, 
they buried in their own snowy bosoms, until they 
