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LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS, 
wide departure from the ideas usually attached to 
a Rose without a thorn, which would more naturally 
present the image of love without alloy. 
In the “ Legend of the Rose,” we find this 
account of the origin of the armour by which this 
flower is defended : 
Young Love, rambling through the wood, 
Found me in my solitude. 
Bright with dew and freshly blown. 
And trembling to the Zephyr’s sighs; 
But as he stooped to gaze upon 
The living gem with raptured eyes, 
It chanced a bee was busy there. 
Searching for its fragrant fare; 
And, Cupid, stooping too, to sip. 
The angry insect stung his lip: 
And, gushing from the ambrosial cell. 
One bright drop on my bosom fell. 
Weeping, to his mother he 
Told the tale of treachery. 
And she her vengeful boy to please, 
, Strung his bow with captive bees. 
But placed upon my slender stem 
The poisoned sting she plucked from them ; 
And none since that eventful morn 
Have found the flower without a thorn. 
By the ancients the Rose was regarded as the 
