Untouched, upon its thorny stem, 
Hangs the pale rose unfolding. 
Hurdis. 
Before the breath of Love animated the world, all the roses 
were white, and every heart was insensible. 
’Twas from Love, I borrowed, too, 
My sweet perfume, my purple hue. 
When Love was bom m Eden’s bower, 
The first soft blush of Eve was shed 
On a white rose — her emblem-flower—• 
Which ever since has blossomed red! 
f. s. o. 
The white poplar is one of the most valuable of our indige¬ 
nous trees, and grows to the height of more than ninety feet, 
towering its superb head upon a straight silvered trunk. The 
ancients consecrated it to Time, because the leaves are in con- 
