the varieties of which adorn the borders with a rich mixture of yellow and purple. The little shrubs of mezereon are in their beauty. The fields begin to be clothed with the springing grass, and but few flowers appear to decorate their velvet mounds. The flowers of Spring have been favorite themes for the poets. Shakspeare represents Perdita as desirous to present to her guests Daffodils That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets, dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno’s eyes, Or Cytherea’s breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phœbus in his strength, a malady Most incident to maids; bold oxlips, and The crown-imperial; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one! and Chaucer has sung so melodiously and so affectionately of the charms of These flowres, white and rede, Soch that men callen daisies in our town, as to entwine it with the recollections of himself. Shelley, among the modern writers, in a single couplet, has left one of the most exquisite descriptions of this flower that ever was written: Daisies, those pearled Arcturi of the earth, The constellated flower that never sets! And another poet endears it by a single epithet. He is seeking for a flower to place in the coffined hand of a dead infant. Flowers! oh, a flower! a winter rose, That tiny hand to fill, Go search the fields! the lichen wet, Bends o’er the unfailing well: Beneath the furrow lingers yet The scarlet pimpernel. Peeps not a snow-drop in the bower, Where never froze the spring? _A daisy? oh! bring childhood’s flower—_ _The half-blown daisy bring!_ Yes, lay the daisy’s little head Beside the little cheek; Oh, hush! the last of five is dead— The childless cannot speak! The inimitable Wordsworth, with the garrulity of a nurse, fondling a beloved infant, lavishes on it in a single poem, several endearing appellations, in one verse styling it A nun demure, of lowly port. And in another line: A queen in crown of rubies drest. And again: A little Cyclops, with one eye, Staring to threaten or defy. The primrose, a beautiful little flower but little known in this country, also has been embalmed in song. Milton introduces it in terms of endearment, “the rathe primrose that forsaken dies,” as if its little heart was too gentle to withstand alone the rude shocks of the world. The violet seems to have been a favorite flower with this author, when he says, No sweeter fragrance e’er perfumed the gale. Herrick thus fancifully accounts for its color: