THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
133 
A funeral stone or verse, I covet none; 
But only crave of you that I may have 
A sacred Laurel springing from my grave ; 
Which being seen blest with perpetual greene, 
May grow to be not so much called a tree, 
As the eternal monument of me. 
LAVENDEB.— Distrust. 
Shenstone here tells us of a country custom:— 
Lavender, whose spikes of azure bloom 
Shall be, erewhile, in arid bundles bound, 
To lurk amidst the labours of her loom, 
And crown her kerchiefs clean with mickle rare 
perfume. 
LILAC.— First Emotion of Love. 
Cowper thus speaks of the combination of fragrance 
and freshness in this shrub :— 
The lilac various in array, now white, 
Now sanguine, and her beauteous head now set 
With purple spikes pyramidal, as if 
Studious of ornament, yet unresolved 
Which hue she most approved, she chose them all. 
And two American poets also advert to its perfume. 
One of these, Willis, says :— 
The lilac has a load of balm 
For every wind that stirs. 
While Longfellow gravely adds :— 
How slowly through the lilac-scented air 
Descends the tranquil moon ! 
