40 
THE POETRY OF FLOWERS 
A robe of ice, its blushes, bound, 
By winter-breezes fanned. 
But softly through the crystal veil, 
That gleamed about its form, 
There came a fitful glow to tell, 
The flower beneath was warm: 
And thus, though cold her seeming be, 
Her cheek so calmy fair, 
Her spirit, struggling to be free, 
Doth often tremble there! 
f. s. o. 
BEAUTY EVER NEW. 
CHINA, OR MONTHLY ROSE. 
Tins is the earliest flowering rose; and in mild seasons when 
planted against a wall, will sometimes flower in the beginning 
of April; and being protected by glass in Autumn, or aided by 
artificial heat, may be continued in bloom until Christmas. 
That loveliness ever in motion, which plays, 
Like the light upon Autumn’s soft, shadowy days, 
Now here and now there, giving warmth as it flies, 
From the lips to the cheeks, from the cheek to the eyes ! 
Moore. 
An angel face ! its sunny “ wealth of hair,” 
In radiant ripples, bathed the graceful throat 
And dimpled shoulders;—round the rosy curve 
Of the sweet mouth a smile seemed wandering ever, 
