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LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS 
! — 
“ The lotus flower, whose leaves I now 
Kiss silently, 
Far more than words can tell thee how 
I worship thee.”—M oore. 
This may be considered by some of our readers 
a fanciful theory, but surely it has as good 
foundations for its support, as many an hypo¬ 
thesis which has obtained universal approbation 
and credit. 
(( When nature laughs out in all the triumph 
of spring, it may be said, without a metaphor 
that, in her thousand varieties of flowers, we 
see the sweetest of her smiles ; that, through 
them, we comprehend the exultation of her 
joys : and that, by them, she wafts her songs 
of thanksgiving to the heaven above her, which 
repays her tribute of gratitude with looks of 
love. Yes, flowers have their language. Theirs 
is an oratory, that speaks in perfumed silence, 
and there is tenderness, and passion, and even 
the light-hearted ness of mirth in the variegated 
beauty of their vocabulary. To the poetical 
mind, they are not mute to each other; to the 
pious, they are not mute to their Creator. . . . 
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