THE BOUQUET. 

The mind from its rare element? There lies 
A talisman in intellect, which yields 
Celestial music, when the master hand 
Touches it cunningly. It sleeps beneath 
The outward semblance, and to common sight 
Is an invisible and hidden thing ; 
But when the lip is faded, and the cheek 
Robbed of its daintiness, and when the form 
Witches the sense no more, and human love 
Falters in its idolatry, this spell 
Will hold its strength unbroken, and go on 
Stealing anew the affections. WILLIS. 
CANDYTUFT. 
IBERIS. 
Indifference. 
Tuov ne’er didst love! 
*T is writ in the smooth margin of thy brow, 
And in the steady lustre of thine eye. 
Thy blood did never riot in thy veins 
With the distempered, hurried course of love; 
Thy heart did never shake thy shuddering frame 
With the thick, startled, throbbing pulse of love ; 
Thou hast ne’er wept love’s bitter, burning tears, 
Hoped with love’s wild, unutterable hope, 





