54 
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
Then, in a softer tone, they said to her:—The 
child which hath not seen the light hath not 
known the sorrows of life: his young spirit, 
borne aloft on glittering wings, soars to the 
abodes of everlasting day. The souls of infants 
who, like thine, 'have burst without pain the 
bonds of life, reclining on golden clouds, appear 
and open to him the mysterious portal of the 
manufactory of flowers. There these innocents 
are continually employed in enclosing the flowers 
that the next spring shall bring forth in imper¬ 
ceptible germs: these germs they scatter every 
morning over the earth with the tears of the 
dawn. Millions of delicate hands enwrap the 
rose in its bud, the grain of corn in its husk, 
the mighty oak in a single acorn, a whole forest 
in an imperceptible seed. 
We have seen him, Malvina !—we have seen 
the infant whom thou mournest, borne on a 
light mist: he approached, and poured upon 
our fields a fresh harvest of flowers. Behold, 
Malvina!—among these flowers there is one 
with golden disk, encircled with rays of silver, 
tipped with a delicate tint of crimson. Waving 
amid the grass in a gentle breeze, it looks like 
