AND FLOWERS OF POETRY. 
Thy words had such a melting flow, 
And spoke of truth so sweetly well, 
They dropped like heaven’s serenest snow, 
An d all was brightness where they fell! 
Mooke. 
Speech is the morning to the soul: 
It spreads the beauteous images abroad, 
Which else are furled and clouded. 
Dryden and Lee. 
e-n CHANT MEN T. 
VERVAIN. 
She nightshade strows to work him ill, 
Therewith the vervain and her dill, 
That hindereth witches of their will. 
Drayton. 
It were well if botanists would attach a moral idea to every 
plant they describe: we might then have a universal diction¬ 
ary of the sentiment of flowers — generally understood — which 
would be handed down from age to age, and might be renew¬ 
ed, without changing their characters every succeeding spring. 
The altars of Jupiter are overthrown: those ancient forests, 
that witnessed the mysteries of Druidism, exist no longer; and 
the pyramids of Egypt shall one day disappear, buried, like the 
sphinx, in the sands of the desert*; but the lotus and the acan 
thus shall ever flower upon the banks of the Nile, the mistletoe 
will always flourish upon the oak, and the vervain upon the 
barren knolls. 
