They spared the star that lit their feet, The Daisy was so very sweet. _Miller._ * * * * * When soothed awhile by milder airs, Thee Winter in the garland wears That thinly shades his few gray hairs; Spring cannot shun thee; Whole summer fields are thine by right, And autumn, melancholy wight, Doth in thy crimson head delight, When rains are on thee. In shoals and bands, a morrice train, Thou greet’st the traveller in the lane; If welcomed once thou count’st it gain, Thou art not daunted; Nor car’st if thou be set at naught: And oft alone in nooks remote We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, When such are wanted. _Wordsworth._ * * * * * I cannot gaze on aught that wears The beauty of the skies, Or aught that in life’s valley bears The hues of paradise; I cannot look upon a star, Or cloud that seems a seraph’s car, Or any form of purity-- Unmingled with a dream of thee. _P. Benjamin._ * * * * * The Daisy scattered on each meade and downe, A golden tuft within a silver crown; Faire fell that dainty flower! and may there be No shepherd graced that doth not honour thee. _Browne._ * * * * * There is a flower, a little flower With silver crest and golden eye, That welcomes every changing hour, And weathers every sky. _Montgomery._ * * * * * Heaven may awhile correct the virtuous, Yet it will wipe their eyes again, and make Their faces whiter with their tears. Innocence Concealed is the stolen pleasure of the gods, Which never ends in shame, as that of men Doth oftentimes do; but like the sun breaks forth, When it hath gratified another world; And to our unexpecting eyes appears More glorious through its late obscurity. _John Fountain._ PERIWINKLE.... _Tender Recollections_. In France, the Periwinkle has been adopted as the emblem of the pleasures of memory and sincere friendship, probably in allusion to Rousseau’s recollection of his friend, Madame de Warens, occasioned, after a lapse of thirty years, by the sight of this flower, which they together had admired. This plant is deeply rooted in the soil which it adorns. It throws out its shoots on all sides to clasp the earth, and covers it with flowers, which reflect the hue of heaven. Thus our first affections, warm, pure, and artless, seem to be of heavenly origin. * * * * *