










34 THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
Jove, in pity of the deed, 
And her loving, luckless speed, 
Turn’d her to this plant we call 
Now ‘the flower of the wall.’” 
Next to this metamorphosed young lady 
comes the Bluebell, which nods at the ruins’ 
foot, or under the overarching shadow of the 
wood. ‘To this beautiful and graceful flower 
a fable belongs, so strangely at variance with 
its meaning, according to ordinary flower- 
HI language, that we have ventured to change 
it to Sorrowful regret; and we think our 
readers will confirm the change when we 
have told its story. 
Hyacinthus was a prince of Sparta, 

.‘ The pride of Spartan land,” 
young and exquisitely beautiful. Two gods, 
Apollo (the sun) and Zephyrus (the air), 
were attached by the warmest friendship to 
Hyacinthus. The young prince preferred 
Zephyrus, and Apollo, in a fit of sudden 
jealousy and rage, slew the unhappy mortal 







wno had displeased him; but instantly re- 































