SYRINGA.

Philadelphus Odorus.

LANGUAGE-MEMORY.

I THINK of thee when young and beauteous morning
Has thrown her mantle o'er the realms of night,
The sky, and earth, and nature, all adorning
With robes of light.

And when around the evening shades are creeping,
And not a breath disturbs the tranquil sea,
When starlit skies their dewy tears are weeping,
I think of thee.

Thy gentle voice! I often, often hear it,
When from the din of day I fain would flee,
And in the hushed and voiceless night my spirit
Returns to thee.

I know that here I never more shall meet thee, For thou hast passed to brighter worlds above; And there dost wait, an angel fair, to greet me, In realms of love.

But O, thy token, by fond memory given,

Of love unchanging, softens all my woe; And the sweet hope of joining thee in heaven Is bliss below!

OLIO.

THINK'ST thou there dwells no courage but in breasts That set their mail against the ringing spears,

When helmets are struck down? Thou little knowest Of nature's marvels.

He is a coward who would borrow

MRS. HEMANS.

A charm against the present sorrow
From the vague future's promise of delight:
As life's alarums nearer roll,
Th' ancestral buckler calls,
Self-clanging from the walls

In the high temple of the soul;

Where are most sorrows, there the poet's sphere is

To feed the soul with patience,

To heal its desolations

With words of unshorn truth, with love that never wearies.

J. R. LOWELL.

I slept, and dreamed that life was beauty;

I woke, and found that life was duty:
Was my dream, then, a shadowy lie?
Toil on, said heart, courageously,
And thou shalt find thy life to be
A noonday light and truth to thee.

FORGET me not! What varied feeling
These little magic words impart !
Absence and love at once revealing,
They sadden while they soothe the heart.

Forget me not! Whatever woes

In life's precarious paths beset me,

They'll soften, if affection knows

That those I love will not forget me.

Forget thee! forget thee! How can I forget,

When not a sigh leaves me which breathes of regret,
When not a wish passes but finds in my breast
A hope for thy welfare, a prayer for thy rest?
Forget thee! forget thee! I cannot forget,

When not a sigh leaves me which breathes of regret.

Forget thee! forget thee! How can I forget,
While deeply, most deeply, thine image is set?
And nought from this bosom that image will tear ;
Forever, yes, ever, that image I'll wear.

Forget thee! forget thee! I cannot forget,

While deep in my bosom thine image is set.

TULIP, RED.

Tulipa Gesneriana.

LANGUAGE-DECLARATION OF LOVE.

Look how the blue-eyed violets
Glance love to one another!
Their little leaves are whispering
The vows they may not smother.
The birds are pouring passion forth
In every blossoming tree.

If flowers and birds talk love, lady,
Why not we?

And over all the happy earth
Love floweth, like a river

True love, whose glory fills the sky
Forever and forever.

The pale hearts of the silver stars
Throb, too, as mine to thee;
All things delight in love, lady;
Why not we?

I love thee, and I feel

That on the fountain of my heart a seal

Is set to keep its waters pure and bright
For thee.

And many hours we talked in joy,

Yet too much blessed for laughter;

I was a happy man that day,

And happy ever after.

ANON.

SHELLEY.

MRS. HOWITT.

TULIP.

Tulipa.

LANGUAGE-BEAUTIFUL EYES.

THOSE eyes,

those eyes, how full of heaven they are, When the calm twilight leaves the heaven most holy! Tell me, sweet eyes, from what divinest star Did ye drink in your liquid melancholy? Tell me, beloved eyes!

I look upon the fair blue skies,
And nought but empty air I see;
But when I turn me to thine eyes,

It seemeth unto me

Ten thousand angels spread their wings

Within those little azure rings.

Those eyes,

Soft and capacious as a cloudless sky,

BULWER.

O. W. HOLMES.

Whose azure depths their color emulates,

Must needs be conversant with upward looks,
Prayer's voiceless service.

WORDSWORTH.

The bright black eye, the melting blue,—

I cannot choose between the two.

But that is dearest, all the while,

That wears for us the sweetest smile.

0. W. HOLMES.