2 
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
long been rumours in the olden world, that before 
the angels left their watch beside the star-beaconed 
battlements of Heaven, and gave up all their glory 
for the love of woman, the Buds and Blossoms had 
held sweet converse together ; and that many a 
time when the nightingale ushered in the twilight 
with her song, voices from the flowers had made low 
response amongst the glades and rose-girded pas¬ 
tures of the Garden of Paradise. Even on Olympus, 
Love had heard that an immortal language never 
could die ; that, although silent, it still slept some¬ 
where amongst the flowers. And many a time, 
whilst resting on some fragrant bed, he had been 
awakened by low whisperings, and disturbed by the 
heavy beating of his heart, which ever seemed 
urging him onward to commence his holy mission, 
and discover that language, which had been lost 
ever since the day when Eve went weeping from 
beneath the angel-guarded gates of Eden. 
Love arose, and shook the rounded dew in loosened 
pearls from the feathery silver of his wings, and 
soared far away over many a hill and valley; alight¬ 
ing when weary, and kneeling lowly, with attentive 
ear and bowed head, beside the blossoms. For a 
long time he only learnt what the bees said when 
they hung murmuring over the honeyed bells, and 
what words the butterflies whispered as they alighted 
upon the flowers with subsiding wings. Onward 
