* * * * * O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? _Shakspeare._ * * * * * Get thee glass eyes; And like a scurvy politician, seem To see the things thou dost not. _Shakspeare._ * * * * * Women of kind have conditions three: The first is,--they be full of deceit, To spinne also is their property, And women have a wonderful conceit, For they can weep oft, and all is a sleight, And ever when they list, a tear is in the eye, Beware, therefore,--the blind eateth many a fly. _Chaucer._ * * * * * Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes, And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice! _Shakspeare._ * * * * * Smooth runs the water, where the brook is deep; And in his simple show he harbours treason. The fox barks not, when he would steal the lamb. No, no, my sovereign; Gloster is a man Unsounded yet, and full of deep deceit. _Shakspeare._ LADY’S SLIPPER.... _Capricious Beauty_. The Lady’s Slipper is well known in Europe and America. The plant is small, but produces a considerable number of flowers, of variegated hues. This flower is made the emblem of capricious beauty, because she seems, ----With her changeful hues, As she were doubtful which array to choose. * * * * * I saw thee in the gay saloon Of Fashion’s glittering mart, Where Mammon buys what Love deplores, Where Nature yields to Art; And thou wert so unlike the herd My kindling heart despised, I could not choose but yield that heart, Though Love were sacrificed. The smile which hung upon thy lips, In transport with their tone, The music of thy thoughts, which breathed A magic theirs alone! The looks which spake a soul so pure, So innocent and gay, Have passed, like other golden hopes Of happiness, away. _Dawes._ * * * * * Her eyes Are blue and beautiful, and flash out gleams Of diamond light, like that which brightly beams On stilly summer nights from starlit skies. Her cheeks are tinted with the blushing dyes Which Heaven--so wisely bountiful--bestows In virgin freshness on the modest rose. _MacKellar._ * * * * * Most fair is e’er most fickle. A fair girl Is like a thousand beauteous things of earth, But most like them in love of change. _Peerbold._ * * * * * We gaze and turn away, and know not where, Dazzled and drunk with beauty, till the heart Reels with its fulness. _Byron._ * * * * *