20 POETICAL LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
the blush of beauty, the breath of love and that 
even when her leaves withered, to mark her immor¬ 
tal origin, she gave not up her breath, but still lived 
in a spirit of invisible fragrance ; that she never 
knew old age, but sank to sleep in perfume, in the 
full perfection of her beauty, for she was the fairest 
daughter that was born of the Mother of Love. So 
O 
Love found his sweet and long-lost sister in the Rose, 
and she first spoke to him in the old language of the 
flowers, giving him a new lesson every day, until not 
a bell bowed, nor a bud expanded, nor a blossom 
opened its beautiful lips, without Love knowing every 
word it whispered. 
For days did Love linger with his sweet sister, 
the Rose, before he again set out on his pilgrimage; 
but his journey was now no longer lonely; he found 
a companion in every flower by the way-side, and 
held converse with every bud that dwelt within its 
green homestead of leaves. The Honeysuckle told 
him how, in the olden age, she was the emblem of 
Devoted Affection; that she twined over rural and 
primeval huts, when love alone was counted happi- 
* Fragment, attributed to Sappho. 
