169 
INQUIETUDE. 
MARIGOLD. 
The marigold, that goes to bed with the sun. 
And with him rises weeping. anon. 
Madame Lebrun in one of her charming 
pictures has represented grief as a young man 
pale and languishing; his head appears to be 
bowed down by the weight of a garland of 
marigolds. All the world knows this gilded 
flower, which has been made the emblem of 
distress of mind ; or rather, we should say of 
that inquietude which is caused by uncer¬ 
tainty as to the sentiments of the one we love 
with a peculiar affection. The lover longs to 
know whether there be a reciprocal feeling in 
the heart of his mistress towards himself, or 
whether he has been buoying himself up with 
false hope. We verily believe that there are 
few who would not prefer to receive the dread 
intelligence that his suit is rejected, than re¬ 
main in this uncertain state. Anon he spe¬ 
culates on the glance of kindness he thought 
she gave him as she passed, for, as Byron says, 
Glances beget ogles, ogles sighs, 
Sighs wishes, wishes words, and words a letter, 
Which fly on wings of light-heeled Mercuries, 
Who do such things because they know no better. 
