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LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
she had drawn out the faithful features of Love. 
He who had eyes for her alone was a long time 
before he discovered these accurate images of him¬ 
self, and when he did, his first exclamation was, 
“What hand hath done this?” Forgetting Love’s 
warning for the moment, she looked up into his 
face and answered, “Mine, sweet Love! I but 
copied the image from my heart, where it had 
been so long engraven, and transferred it there.” 
Love gazed upon her in mute amazement, and 
whilst he looked, her face beamed with a brightness 
which belonged to heaven—not a shadow of death 
passed over it; for she had gazed into a fountain 
in which the face of Jove had many a time been 
mirrored, and after the death of Leda, whom he had 
long secreted in that hidden grotto, he vowed by 
his divinity, that whatever countenance was next 
reflected in that fountain should become immortal, 
nor ever know death. Nor was it until an after-day 
that Venus discovered this secret, when she found 
that Psyche overcame every difficulty, and lived on 
in spite of all she suffered: for never had the 
Goddess of Beauty dreaded a rival amongst the 
Immortals until she beheld the lovely countenance 
of Psyche. Her labours and her sufferings are 
found in many an old legend ; her patience and her 
tears were known only to Love ; and it was during 
her rambles through the world, while she was 
