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LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
outsweetened, the breath of the flowers. From the 
deep purple which the haughty Emperors wore, to 
the shaded and delicate colours which mingled in 
the varied costume of the crowned Queen,—when 
the loom had exhausted its richness, and the un¬ 
sunned mine brought to light the splendour of its 
treasures, they were still eclipsed by the matchless 
attire of the flowers; for “ Solomon in all his glory 
was not arrayed like one of these.” 
FLOWERS OF LOYE. 
With grey head bent upon the ground, 
While wandering through a Saxon vale, 
A Pilgrim first the Vi’let found, 
Flinging its fragrance on the gale, 
As he towards the holy shrine 
Journey’d along with wearied feet: — 
He smiled to think the saint divine 
Should him with such sweet odours meet. 
A Lover on the Indian sea, 
Sighing for her left far behind, 
Inhaled the scented Jasmine-tree, 
As it perfumed the evening wind : 
