2 
THE LANGUAGE OF FLO WEES. 
Hood, in the following pretty lines, has afforded us an 
admirable introduction to our little volume :— 
“ Welcome, dear Heart, and a most kind good-morrow; 
The day is gloomy, but our looks shall shine:— 
Flowers I have none to give thee, but I borrow 
Their sweetness in a verse to speak for thine. 
“ Here are red Roses, gathered at thy cheeks,— 
The white were all too happy to look white: 
For love the Rose, for faith the Lily speaks; 
It withers in false hands, but here ’tis bright! 
“Dost love sweet Hyacinth? Its scented leaf 
Curls manifold,—all love’s delights blow double: 
’Tis said this floweret is inscribed with grief,— 
But let that hint of a forgotten trouble. 
“ I plucked the Primrose at night’s dewy noon; 
Like Hope, it showed its blossoms in the night;— 
’Twas, like Endymion, watching for the Moon! 
And here are Sunflowers, amorous of light! 
“These golden Buttercups are April’s seal,— 
The Daisy stars her constellations be: 
These grew so lowly, I was forced to kneel, 
Therefore I pluck no Daisies but for thee! 
‘ ‘ Here’s Daisies for the morn, Primrose for gloom, 
Pansies and Roses for the noontide hours:— 
A wight once made a dial of their bloom,— 
So may thy life be measured out by flowers !” 
Our readers will perceive that the symbolism and 
language of flowers were not unknown to the poet. 
Mrs. Browning says truly and charmingly:— 
“Love’s language may be talked with these; 
To work out choicest sentences, 
No blossoms can be meeter; 
And, such being used in Eastern bowers, 
Yeung maids may wonder if the flowers 
Or meanings be the sweeter, 
