12 
IN TROD UCTION. 
So he wandered along ; and on wild moorlands, where 
rude huts rose, and scarce a flower broke the dark brown 
solitude, Love left the broad Fern as a token of Sin¬ 
cerity ; on bleak mountain-tops, where scarce a tree 
threw down its checkered shadow, he planted the Hare¬ 
bell and the crimson Heather, to give a charm to Retire¬ 
ment and Solitude. Into the depths of the loneliest 
woods he went, visiting deep dells and deserted dingles, 
where the graceful Lilies of the Valley grew, telling 
them they were not forgotten, hut should yet be proudly 
worn on many a fond breast that sighed for a Return of 
Happiness. Beside the Marigold, which closed its eyes 
as if for very Sorrow, he planted the Celandine, and 
promised that, whilst ever the golden star shone there, 
it should be the image of Joys to Come. From flower to 
flower he flew on his peaceful pilgrimage ; through them 
reconciling lovers who hytd long been estranged, and 
bringing hack many a wandering affection that had long 
sighed for a fond heart to dwell within. 
Thus Love restored a language which for undated 
centuries had been lost — which the sweet tongue of 
woman had made music of before the beauty of the 
early world was submerged beneath the waters. For 
Time had all hut blotted out the few records which told 
that there ever existed a language between Love and 
the Flovvers. 
