AND FLOWERS OF POETRY. 191 
And bear the long, cold, wintry night, 
And bear her own degraded doom, 
And wait till heaven’s reviving light, 
Eternal spring! shall burst the gloom. 
Mrs. Henry Tighe. 
RARITY. 
MANDRAKE. 
The ancients attributed great virtues to this plant; but as 
they nave not left any accurate description of it, we are ignor¬ 
ant what species they gave that name to. Our charlatans and 
mountebanks, profiting by the ignorance of the people, frequent¬ 
ly made different roots into the form of a little man, which they 
exhibited to the credulous, and sought to persuade them that 
these marvellous roots were the true mandrake, which are 
found only in one quarter of China, nearly inaccessible. They 
added that these mandrakes uttered the most lamentable cries, 
closely resembling those of a human being, when their leaves 
were plucked after the night-dew had descended; and that 
whosoever ventured to do it, was struck by death: — 
The phantom iorms — oh! touch them not, 
That appal the murderer’s sight; 
Lurk in the fleshy mandrake’s stem, 
That shriek when torn at night. 
