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LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
outsweetened, the breath of the flowers. From the 
deep purple which the haughty emperors wore, to 
ther-shaded and delicate colours which mingled in 
the varied costume of the crowned Queen,—when 
the loom had exhausted its richness, and the un¬ 
sunned mine brought to light the splendour of its 
treasures, they were still eclipsed by the matchless 
attire of the flowers ; for “ Solomon in all his glory 
was not arrayed like one of these.” 
FLOWERS OF LOYE. 
With grey head bent upon the ground, 
While wandering through a Saxon vale, 
A Pilgrim first the Vi’let found, 
Flinging its fragrance on the gale, 
As he towards the holy shrine 
Journey’d along with wearied feet:— 
He smiled to think the saint divine 
Should him with such sweet odours meet. 
A Lover on the Indian sea, 
Sighing for her left far behind, 
Inhaled the scented Jasmine-tree, 
As it perfumed the evening wind : 
