POETRY OF FLOWERS. 87 
•‘The rich gleaming wreathings — oh, where are they 
now ? 
The bloom is departed, the beauty is shed; 
All scentless the flower, all sapless the bough,— 
Oh ! the glad night is past, and the green leaves 
are dead !” 
EGLANTINE —SWEET BRIER. 
Rosa, rubignosa . . . Class 12; Order 13. 
POETRY.-1 WOUND TO HEAL. 
Thy spirit has a gift, a secret gift, 
Which answers only to the far, bright stars, 
When through the greenwood’s high and changeful 
rift, 
Streams down the light of Venus and of Mars ; 
Which answers only to the winds and streams, 
The sweet wood-blossoms, and the moon’s pale beams. 
Thou seest strange beauty in the silent things 
That others idly pass. The small, wild bird, 
That flutters o’er the rose his bright blue wings; 
The singing brook, by careless ears ur.neard ; 
The wild flower, swinging in the lonely dell,— 
All bind thee with a strong and wondrous spell. 
Deemed by professors of the language of flow¬ 
ers emblematical of that indescribable some- 
