THE LANGUAGE OF FLO WEES. 
25 
Balm, Gentle . Pleasantry. 
What lively pleasure to divine 
The thought implied, the hinted line.— LI. More. 
Balm of Gilead . Cure. Relief. 
Fancy still paints the future bright, and hope the present 
cheers ; 
Nor can we deem the path we tread leads through a vale 
of tears.— Barton. 
Balsam, Red... Touch me not. Impatient resolves. 
They rage and strive, desire and love. 
But all their noise is vain. 
Balsam, Yellow. Impatience. 
Then I smiled to think God’s greatness 
Rolls around our incompleteness. 
Round our restlessness His rest.— Mrs. Browning. 
Barberry . Sourness of temper. 
But now, when he’s fawning, I with a sour look 
Cry " Sirrah !” and give him a blow with my crook. 
Byron. 
Barberry Tree . Sharpness. 
It rains, and there is gloom around, 
' Slippery and sullen is the ground.— Landor. 
flasil... ••• ••• ••• “* 
And now it courted Love, 
New, raging, called on Hate.— Gray. 
Hatred. 
Bay Leaf. / change but in death. 
Follow Love’s folding star 
To the evening Isond.—Sandys. 
