VERGREEN THORN. Mespilus Pyracantha. Class 12, ICOSANDRIA. Order: DIGYNIA. This well-known shrub is a native of the south of Europe: it also grows plentifully on Mount Caucasus, in the Chersonesus, and in China. It was introduced into England early in the seventeenth century, but has never yet got beyond the pale of the garden or shrubbery, notwithstanding Evelyn's hint that it might be cultivated, with little trouble, for fences and other common purposes. SOLACE IN ADVERSITY. Thou wast not born when merry May 66 Hangs out the virgin flag of spring," Are carolling. Thou wast not born when summer throws Her glory over sky and earth, Nor did the beam which wakes the rose Smile on thy birth. No; like this shrub which cheers the bower, A blessing for the wintry hour Thou sprang to life. And such art still-no summer friend, Breathing smooth things in Pleasure's ear; But, oh! let grief the spirit rend, And thou art near. What could I less than love the hour Which stills the bird, and strips the lea, Since, oh! to cheer the social bower, It gave us thee. ANON. One fire drives out another; one nail, one nail; Rights by rights founder, strengths by strengths do fa SHAKSPEA Hercules himself must yield to odds; And many strokes, though with a battle-axe, Hew down and fell the hardest timber'd oak. SHAKSPEA Blood hath bought blood, and blows have answer'd blo Strength match'd with strength, and power confronted po SHAKSPEAR All the soul Of man is resolution; which expires Never from valiant men, till their last breath; If your resolutions be like mine, We will yet give our sorrows a brave end. CHAPMAN. CROWN. ERN. Filicia. Class 24, CRYPTOGAMIA. Order: FIRST OF THIS CLASS. Fern often affords an agreeable seat to lovers; its ashes are used in the manufacture of glasses for the convivial party; and all the world knows that love and wine make men sincere. SINCERITY. The green and graceful Fern, How beautiful it is! There's not a leaf in all the land So wonderful, I wis. Have ye ever watch'd it budding, With each stem and leaf wrapp'd small, Coiled up within each other Like a round and hairy ball? Have ye watch'd that ball unfolding Oh! then most gracefully they wave Are these Fern leaves to me. For all of early childhood- Look back through memory's tears The sports and fancies then my own, TWAMLEY. LAX. Linum. Class 5, PENTANDRI der: PENTAGYNIA. Truly we ough grateful to this useful plant! It yi the linen we wear, the paper we w on, and the lace which adorns o countrywomen. Nowhere can we c eyes but we see evidence of its utili has been cultivated from time immemorial for the lint a it affords, and it was formerly the chief occupation of cott wives to spin this into yarn and linen cloth. I FEEL YOUR KINDNESS. Ah! 'tis a goodly little thing, He thinketh how those slender stems That shimmer in the sun, Are rich for him in web and woof, He thinketh how those tender flowers And sees in thought his next year's crop, Oh! the goodly Flax-flower! It groweth on the hill; And be the breeze awake or sleep, It never standeth still! It seemeth all astir with life, As if it loved to thrive, And may the kindly showers Give strength unto its shining stems, Give seed unto its flowers. MARY HOWITT. OXGLOVE. Digitalis. Class 14, DIDYNAMIA. Order: ANGIOSPERMIA. Where is the Garden-guest that may outshine the stately, tall, magnificent Foxglove? This is as remarkable for its majestic, lofty demeanour, as the light, lithe Harebell for its modest playfulness. The tall spiral stem, springing up from the group of broad leaves, and thickly hung with the beautiful purple blossoms, gradually lessening in size from the large open bells on the lower portion of the stalk, to the little bud on the summit, still wrapped up in their close green calices, is an object so strikingly beautiful, that I should think any person who had once given it an attentive observance must inevitably be a lover of flowers to the end of his days. STATELINESS. The Foxgloves and the Fern, How gracefully they grow And wavy grass below! Of leaves, that rustling wave In the whispering summer air, That are falling brightly there. Gives to other flowers his kisses, But to her soft lips not one. TWAMLEY. |