122 FLOEAL CEEEMONIES. 
Let US now take our readers to a northern 
clime, where the mighty heart of Nature yet 
beats warmly beneath her rugged exterior, and 
the bright flowers open their perfumed chalices 
in the green valleys, heedless of the snow- 
covered mountains which frown upon them on 
every side:—to Sweden, where “from the 
bank of the river nearest Semb, a little fleet of 
gaily decorated boats is pushing off. In the 
principal boat sits the lady of Semb, her eyes 
turned with quiet enjoyment now on the beau¬ 
tiful scenes of Nature, now on the still more 
beautiful objects that are nearer to her—two 
happy human beings. Beside her, more like a 
little angel than a child, sits the little Hulda; a 
garland of gay flowers twined among her golden 
locks. But the looks of all were turned upon 
the bride and bridegroom; and they were, 
indeed, beautiful to look upon, so inwardly 
happy did they seem. Other boats contained 
the wedding guests. The men who rowed had 
all garlands on their yellow straw hats, and 
thus to the sounds of gay music they passed on 
to the chapel. This was a simple building. 
