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LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
For the beautiful lips they will to it compare, 
For the cheeks that will fade be they never so fair: 
They are mortal, sweet sister: here Death severs 
love,— 
Lasting beauty but lives in the gardens above. 
The Wallflower is aptly chosen as the emblem 
of Fidelity, and is commonly found growing amid 
ancient ruins, when all besides that was beautiful 
has passed away and perished. For year after year 
does it fade and blow without the aid of man: we 
might almost fancy that the spirits of the departed 
tended them, that over the mouldering battlements, 
which for ages no human foot hath climbed, the 
invisible forms of the early daughters of England 
floated in the still noon of night, and trained these 
fragrant emblems of Fidelity in Misfortune,—these 
golden guardiahs of tower and keep. On many a 
silent mound, seldom visited by man, have these 
old English flowers waved throughout long centuries, 
scattering their perfume over what is now a solitude, 
but where in former times, hawk, and hound, and 
pawing palfrey, and lady fair, and youthful knight, 
and long trains of attendants, gathered with light 
heart and merry laugh, to start the heron from the 
