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LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
such a warmth thrown over it, as sometimes flushes 
the pearl-white blossoms of the Hawthorn. The 
silken flow of her nut-brown hair was parted 
Madonna-wise in front, and beautifully broken by 
the damask coronet of wild roses, which here and 
there went rounding off, or was half buried in the 
dark hack-ground of her tresses, like a bird partly 
hidden among the blossoms amid which it sings ; a 
mild, tender light played about the softened sun¬ 
shine of her hazel eyes, throwing a brightness over 
the heaven from which they beamed, and a happi¬ 
ness over every countenance, which reflected back 
the smiling sweetness of their cheering lustre, like 
the sunshine streaming upon a bed of open prim¬ 
roses, and causing the pale yellow of the modest 
flowers to “ give back gold for gold.” Around the 
ivory pillar of her neck hung a band of rosebuds, 
beautifully twisted into a silken riband ; the warm 
marble of her, arms was ornamented with bracelets 
of flowers, and the belt which encircled her slender 
waist was covered with bunches of Hawthorn- 
blossoms. She looked as if the Goddess of Flowers 
had newly alighted upon the earth, and ascended 
that throne to preside over her worshippers. In 
her hand she held a sceptre, covered with the 
choicest flowers of spring, and as she raised or 
lowered it, so the dancers proceeded, or halted in 
a moment, in the midst of their merry measure. 
