flora’s dial. 43 
iftard] 18. 
SHAMROCK. — Light-hearteclness. 
Sigh no more, ladies! sigh no more! 
Men were deceivers ever; 
One foot in sea and one on shore, 
To one thing constant never. 
Then sigh not so, 
But let them go, 
And he you blithe and bonny, 
Converting all your sounds of woe, 
Into, — Hey, nonny, nonny! 
Shakspearf,. 
illard] 10. 
SNAKE’S ROOT. — Horror. 
Sathanas! There’s a great Behemoth spider 
Dropping into my face. A curse on trees 
That have such tenantry of dangling vermin, 
Suggestive of the devil’s workmanship, 
And token of his presence. Ugh! how ugly; 
I think some spirit works in that clawed body, 
All mind and venom! Up thy ladder, fiend 1 
Claw up thy tether to thy nest again! 
Saol — a mystery. 
