128 
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
shelter of our woods, and covers the borders with 
that delicious fruit which belongs to any one who 
pleases to gather it. It is a charming reserve which 
nature has subtracted from the exclusive right of 
property, and which she rejoices in rendering com¬ 
mon property to all her children. 
The flowers of the Strawberry form pretty 
bouquets; but where is the barbarous hand that, in 
gathering them, would rob the future of its fruits! 
It is delightful to find, among the glaciers of the 
Alps, the plants and flowers of the Strawberry in all 
seasons of the year. When the traveller — scorched 
by the sun, and sinking with fatigue on those rocks, 
old as the world, amidst forrests of fir half over¬ 
whelmed with avalanches—vainly seeks a cabin 
to shelter him, or a fountain to refresh him, he 
suddenly perceives troops of young girls advancing 
from the defiles of the rock, bearing baskets of 
Strawberries that perfume the air: they appear at 
once on the crag above him, and in the yawning 
dells beneath. It would seem as if each rock and 
tree were guarded by one of those nymphs whom 
Tasso placed at the gate of Armida’s enchanted 
gardens. But though equally attractive, the young 
Swiss girls are less dangerous; and, while offering 
