THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 97 
Rose, China. Beauty always new. 
The sprightly wit, the lively eye, 
Th' engaging smile, the gaiety.— Pope. 
Rose, Christmas. Tranqiiillise my anxiety. 
So when away my caring went. 
I counted cost, and was content. 
Rose, Daily . Thy smile I aspire to. 
An excellent thing it is ! and ever lent 
To truth, and love, and meekness.— E. Arnold. 
Rose, Damask . Brilliant complexion. 
Rose, Deep Red. Bashful shafne. 
But, for her part, the truest taste 
She found, was in retirement placed.— Whitehead. 
Rose, Dog . Pleasure and pain. 
Her from whose pain I never wished relief. 
And for whose pleasure I could smile at grief.— A. Hill. 
Rose, Guelder . Winter. Age. 
Time still, as he flies, adds increase to her truth, 
And gives to her mind what he steals from her youth. 
E. Moore. 
Rose, Hundred-leaved . Pride. 
And the devil did grin, for his darling sin. 
Is pride that apes humility.— Coleridge. 
Rose, Japan ... Beauty is your only attraction. 
Whence comes my love ? Oh, heart, disclose ; 
It was from cheeks that shamed the rose ; 
Whence comes my woe ? As freely own. 
Ah me ! ’twas from a heart like stone.— Harrington. 
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