78 
Before that time the rose was but a stain, 
The Lilly naught but paleness did contain j 
You have the native colour;—these, they die. 
And only florish in your livery! 
How exquisitely gi'aceful and melodious is this, yet straining 
even the wide licence of a poet’s fancy. 
The Pansy boasts a gi'eater variety of aliases than most 
flowers: it is known as the Heartsease, Love-in-idleness, La 
Pensde, from which significant name we derive the word 
Pansy; and has also many rustic appellations, such as “a 
Kiss at the Garden Gate,” “Pink o’ my John,” &c. 
Although every flower which our divine Shakspeare has 
mentioned claims from us an immortality of love, yet the 
Pansy seems especially dedicated to him. Other Bards have 
written most sweet and dainty conceits about the blushing rose, 
and the fair lily, and the blue violet, and many another gentle 
bud and gorgeous blossom; but none have so entirely appro¬ 
priated any to themselves as Shakspeare has “ the Pansy 
freaked with jet.” He has given tlie fable to the Flower; and 
a ])assage of more perfect poetical beauty cannot exist, than 
the scene where Oberon directs Puck to “ fetch him this herb ;” 
but as it precedes my illustrative poem, I shall omit it here. 
How touchingly poor Ophelia mingles the Pansy in her gifts 
of token flowers : “ There’s Pansies—that’s for thoughts ! ” 
Herrick, in his usual quaint, fanciful way, gives a dillerent 
account. 
