The language of flowers : $b The floral offering ; a token of affection and esteem ; comprising the language and poetry of flowersDumont, Henrietta
General
The language of flowers : $b The floral offering ; a token of affection and esteem ; comprising the language and poetry of flowers
Dumont, Henrietta
Flower language; Flowers in literature
* * * * *
The glory of the human form
Is but a perishing thing, and Love will droop
When its brief grace hath faded. But the mind
Perisheth not, and when the outward charm
Hath had its brief existence, it awakes,
And is the lovelier that it slept so long.
_Willis._
Beauty lies
As naturally upon his cheek as bloom
Upon a peach. Like morning vapour, flies
Before his smile my mind’s infrequent gloom.
We tremble when we think that many a storm
May beat upon him in the time to come,--
That his now beautiful and fragile form
May bear a burden sore and wearisome.
Yet, so the stain of guiltiness and shame
Be never placed upon his soul and name,--
So he preserve his virtue though he die,--
And to his GOD, his race, his country prove
A faithful man, whom praise nor gold can buy,
Nor threats of vile, designing men can move,--
We ask no more.
_MacKellar._
SCARLET GERANIUM.... _Stupidity_.
There are many varieties of the Geranium, distinguished by the shape and
hue of the flowers and leaves, and the difference in their fragrance.
The Scarlet Geranium is a very beautiful flower, but its scent is
disagreeable. The following anecdote will give the reason of its being
chosen as the emblem of stupidity. Madame de Staël was always angry when
any of her acquaintance attempted to introduce a stupid person into her
company. One day, one of her friends ventured to bring to her a young
Swiss officer of most prepossessing exterior. The lady, pleased with his
appearance, was very lively, and said a thousand flattering things to
the new-comer, who seemed at first to be struck mute by surprise and
admiration. When, however, he had listened to her for above an hour
without opening his lips, she began to suspect the cause of his silence,
and put to him such direct questions that he could not help answering.
His answers were extremely silly! Madame de Staël, vexed at having
thrown away her time and her wit, turned to her friend and said:
“Indeed, sir, you are like my gardener, who thought to do me a pleasure
by bringing me this morning a pot of Geranium: but I can tell you that I
made him take back the flower, desiring him not to let me see it any
more.” “And why so?” asked the young man in astonishment. “It was, since
you wish to know, because the Geranium is a beautiful scarlet flower;
while you look at it, it pleases the eye; but when you press it ever so
slightly, it gives out a disagreeable smell.” So saying, Madame de Staël
rose and went out of the room, leaving the young fool abashed and in
confusion.
* * * * *
This fellow is wise enough to play the fool;
And to do that well, craves a kind of wit.
_Shakspeare._
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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