THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
103 
BALSAM.— Impatience. 
This one of our native plants, by no means common, 
delights in shady woods:— 
In the thick and deep recess of a blooming wilderness, 
Tangled weeds concealed from view—what alone by 
sound we knew— 
A bubbling murmuring stream, unlit by glittering beam 
Of the gorgeous sun above this delightful cool alcove. 
On the soft and moistened bank, which the brooklet’s 
waters drank, 
’Mid the ravelled weeds there grew, pleasing to our 
searching view, 
Yellow Balsam’s blossoms gay, scattered o’er in thick 
array, 
With the shining scarlet spots Mature to this flower 
allots* 
Favourite Field Flowers. 
In allusion to its “ Touch-me-not ” character, Darwin 
thus speaks of it:— 
With fierce distracted eye Impatiens stands, 
Swells her pale cheeks and brandishes her hands; 
With rage and hate the astonished groves alarms, 
An d hurls her infants from her frantic arms. 
BASIL.— Hatred. 
This flower, Moore tells us in “ Lalla Rookh,” is 
commonly found in Persian churchyards :— 
The Basil tuft that waves 
Its fragrant blossom over graves. 
