THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
141 
My Scarlet Weather-Glass will show, whether it will 
be fair or no. 
The blue-eyed Pimpernel will tell, by closed lids of rain 
and showers; 
A fine bright day is known full well, when open wide 
it spreads its flowers. 
Some flowers put on more gay attire, and this in use¬ 
fulness excel, 
But I, a Shepherd, most admire the blue-eyed Scarlet 
Pimpernel. 
THE PINE TREE.— Daring. 
The loud wind through the forest wakes 
With sounds like ocean roaring, wild and deep, 
And in yon gloomy Pines strange music makes, 
Like symphonies unearthly, heard in sleep; 
The sobbing waters wash their waves and weep, 
Where moans the blast its dreary path along, 
The bending Firs a mournful cadence keep. 
Drummond. 
THE PINK.— Lively and Pure Affection. 
The Pink can no one justly slight, the gardener’s 
favourite flower; 
He sets it now beneath the light, now shields it from 
its power. 
Goethe. 
THE POLIANTHES, OR TUBEROSE.— 
Yoluptuousness. 
Moore tells us how it is esteemed by the Malays, who 
call it Mistress of the Night:— 
