INTRODUCTORY. 
THY EMBLEM FLOWER. 
Round every flower there gleams a glory 
Bequeathed by antique song or story; 
To each, old legends give a name 
And its peculiar charm proclaim; 
O’er smiling lawn—through shaded grove, 
Our dreaming poets pensive rove, 
And strive to read their language rare, 
And learn the lesson latent there— 
Then ’mid them all, so fair to see, 
What flower shall thy fit emblem be ? 
The Rose is radiant as thy blush 
When from my soul Love’s murmurs gush; 
Its sister flowers before it bow; 
’Tis Queen of Hearts—and so art thou. 
But oft its fond admirers mourn 
The piercing sharpness of its thorn— 
Then ne’er can it thy symbol be, 
No painful thing can emblem thee! 
The vestal Lily of the vale 
With unrequited love is pale, 
And Fancy hears each fairy bell 
Peal forth its hopes’ funereal knell. 
But couldst thou ever love in vain, 
And fade beneath a fruitless pain? 
Let those reply who for one smile 
Would Ossa upon Pelion pile,— 
Or wars with giants fearless wage,— 
Or steal Titania’s fairy page— 
Or chain the lightnings as they fly— 
Or, if thou asked it, gladly die. 
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