LANGUAGE OF FLO WEES. 
129 
a sonnet, new, perhaps, to some of our readers, on this most 
lovely flower. 
SONNET 
i 
TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN. 
“ Oft had I heard thy beauty praised, dear flower, 
And often sought for thee through field and wood; 
Yet could I never find the secret bower 
Where thou dost lead, in maiden solitude, 
A cloistered life, until, this autumn day, 
Beside a tree that shook her golden hair 
And laughed at death, flaunting her rich array, 
I found thee, blue as the still depths of air 
Seen leagues away, between the pine-wood boughs, 
O, never^yet a gladder sight hath met 
These eyes of mine ! Depart, before the snows 
Of hastening winter thy fringed garments wet! 
Thine azure flowers should never fade nor die, 
But bloom, exhale, and gain their native sky.” 
The New Path, Oct., 1865. 
I prefer you, Bose Geranium. 
Irony, Sardonia. 
This plant, of the ranunculus family, has some resemblance 
to parsley. It contains a poison, which contracts the mouth 
so strangely, that the person appears to laugh while dying. 
Hence the expression, a sardonic laugh. 
I shall not survive you, Blade Mulberry. 
The reader is referred to the history of Pyramus and Thisbe, 
in La Pontaine. 
I share your feelings, Double Daisy. See p. 90. 
I surmount everything, Mistletoe. See p. 78. 
I will think of it, Single Field Daisy. See p. 88. 
