The foxglove, with its stately bells To decorate the fading year; And larkspurs, many-hued, shall drive Gloom from the groves, where red leaves lie, D. M. MOIR-The Birth of the Flowers. St. 14. 12 Anemones and seas of gold, And new-blown lilies of the river, And those sweet flow'rets that unfold Their buds on Camadera's quiver. MOORE-Lalla Rookh. Light of the Harem. He bore a simple wild-flower wreath: And every purest flower, that blows FITZ In that sweet time, which Love most blesses, When spring on summer's confines presses. THOMAS LOVE PEACOCK-Rhododaphne. Canto I. L. 107. 21 In Eastern lands they talk in flowers, And they tell in a garland their loves and cares; Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers, On its leaves a mystic language bears. PERCIVAL-The Language of Flowers. 22 Here blushing Flora paints th' enamell'd ground. POPE-Windsor Forest. |