22 POETICAL LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
and told him, that her home was the abode of Mod¬ 
esty ; that she seldom ventured forth into the world; 
that those who loved her sought her solitude, for 
she coveted not the gaze of a stranger’s eye, nor 
loved to parade her beauty abroad among the blos¬ 
soms ; for there were those among the children of 
men, who, forgetful of all modesty, peeped under her 
face, and looked into her downcast eyes. The 
Daisies rose up to welcome him, and gathered to¬ 
gether in thousands to witness his approach. They 
made him a couch of their starry coronets, they em¬ 
braced him with their green arms, and looked fondly 
upon him with their golden eyes, as they told him, 
in sweet, unstudied syllables, that they were the 
daughters of Innocence ; and as Love looked ten¬ 
derly upon them, he felt a hushed and holy awe 
about his heart, such as had never touched those 
innocent flowers, that for ever remain in their child¬ 
hood. Filled with sad and pleasing thoughts, which 
gathered around him whilst he slept beside a bed of 
Pansies, he awoke, and winged his way to a grey, old 
ruined fortress, thinking that he there might ponder 
over the lessons he had learned from the flowers. But 
on the mouldering battlements he beheld the wild 
