. . ■ "h 
126 . LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
Contented to live, yet not fearful to die, g 
With a conscience unspotted, I pass through life’s scene; 
On the wings of delight every moment shall fly, 
And the end of my days be resigned and serene.” t 
( 
The White Jonquil, or Poet’s Narcissus, is found \ 
in most gardens, and is well known by the rich c 
crimson rim which marks the golden cup in its t 
centre. Although linked with the old heathen t 
mythology, and the name of the foolish youth who g 
became enamoured of his own shadow, as he saw \ 
it reflected in the waters, still this poetical flower is t 
allied to our true English family of Daffodils, and j 
is often mentioned by our early dramatists. It 
might have been turned to better use, in floral 
language, than it is; but being just admissible, 
and not requiring any over-exertion of fancy to see 
that Narcissus had a Desire to love some one who 
resembled himself, we must allow it to pass. The 
White Jonquil possesses the sweetest fragrance of 
all this class of flowers, and one which ought to 
be numbered amongst the sweetest perfumes which 
breathe from the sweet and parted lips of May. 
The Convolvulus, or Bindweed, is known to every 
one; from the pale pink flower that clings to the 
reeds of corn, to the long festoons which throw 
their large, white, hollow cups ever every hedgerow. 
The Blue Convolvulus, which we see so commonly 
twined around door-porches, and beneath window- 
