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TILE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
NIGHT SCENTING JASMINE. 
MOORE. 
Many a perfume breathed 
From plants that wake when others sleep ; 
From timid jasmine-buds that keep 
Their odour to themselves all day, 
But when the sunlight dies away 
Let the delicious secret out 
To every breeze that roams about. 
PERFUME OF JASMINE. 
CHURCHILL. 
The jasmine, with which the queen of flowers, 
To charm her god, adorns his favourite bowers ; 
Which brides, by the plain hand of neatness drest,—■ 
Unenvied rival!—wear upon the breast • 
Sweet as the incense of the morn, and chaste 
As the pure zone which circles Dian’s waist. 
ON THE INDIAN-JASMINE FLOWER. 
RYAN. 
How lovelily the jasmine flower 
Blooms far from man’s observing eyes: 
And having lived its little hour, 
There withers,—there sequestered dies ! 
Though faded, yet ’tis not forgot ; 
A rich perfume time cannot sever 
Lingers in that unfriended spot, 
And decks the jasmine’s grave for ever. 
