THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
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My mild and winsome jasmine tree, 
That climbest up the dark gray wall, 
Thy tiny flowerets seem in glee, 
Like silver spray-drops, down to fall: 
Say, did they from their leaves thus peep 
When mailed moss-troopers rode the hill, 
When helmed warders paced the keep, 
And bugles blew for Belted Will? 
My free and feathery jasmine tree, 
Within the fragrance of thy breath 
Yon dungeon grated to its key, 
And the chained captive pined for death. 
On border fray, on feudal crime, 
I dream not, while I gaze on thee; 
The chieftains of that stern old time 
Could ne’er have loved a jasmine tree.” 
It is related that a duke of Tuscany, who was the first 
possessor of the plant in Italy, forbade his gardener to 
take off a single flower or cutting. The gardener might 
have been faithful had he not been in love. On the 
birthday of his mistress he presented her a bouquet con¬ 
taining one sprig of the precious jasmine. She put it in 
moist earth to keep fresh : it took root, grew, and multi¬ 
plied under her skilful hands. She was poor, her lover 
was not rich, and her careful mother forbade their union. 
But the young girl, by selling her jasmines, soon amassed 
a little dowry. The Tuscan girls still wear a wreath of 
jasmine on their wedding day; and they have a proverb 
that a maiden worthy to wear this wreath is rich enough 
to make her husband’s fortune. 
CARNATION (Dianthus caryophyllus). Pure and deep love. 
The variety of shades produced in this flower by 
skilful cultivation is almost infinite, making it a great 
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