LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
129 
a sonnet, new, perhaps, to some of our readers, on this most 
lovely flower. 
SONNET 
TO THE FKINGED GENTIAN. 
“ Oft liad I heard thy beauty praised, dear flower, 
And often sought for thee through field and wood; 
Yet could I never find the secret bower 
Where thou dost lead, in maiden solitude, 
A cloistered life, until, this autumn day, 
Beside a tree that shook her golden hair 
And laughed at death, flaunting her rich array, 
I found thee, blue as the still depths of air 
Seen leagues away, between the pine-wood boughs. 
O, never yet a gladder sight hath met 
These eyes of mineDepart, before the snows 
Of hastening winter thy fringed garments wet! 
Thine azure flowers should never fade nor die, 
But bloom, exhale, and gain their native sky.” 
The New Path, Oct., 1865. 
I prefer you, Rose Geranium. 
Irony, Sardonia. 
This plant, of the ranunculus family, has some resemblance 
to parsley. It contains a poison, which contracts the mouth 
so strangely, that the person appears to laugh while dying. 
Hence the expression, a sardonic laugh. 
I sliall not survive you, Black Mulberry. 
The reader is referred to the history of Pyramus and Thisbe, 
in La Fontaine. 
I sliare your feelings, Double Daisy. Seep. 90. 
I surmount everything, Mistletoe. See p. 78. 
I will think of it, Single Field Daisy. See p. 88. 
