FIELD FLOWERS.

YE field flowers! the gardens eclipse you, 'tis true,
Yet, wildlings of nature, I dote upon you;

ve waft me to summers of old,

earth teemed around me with fairy delight, aisies and buttercups gladdened my sight, res of silver and gold.

E'en now what affections the violet awakes;

What loved little islands, twice seen in their lakes,
Can the wild water-lily restore.

What landscapes I read in the primrose's looks;
What pictures of pebbles and minnowy brooks
In the vetches that tangle the shore.

Earth's cultureless buds! to my heart ye were dear
Ere the fever of passion, or ague of fear,

Had scathed my existence's bloom;

Once I welcome you more, in life's passionless stage, With the visions of youth to revisit my age,

And I wish you to grow on my tomb.

CAMPBELL.

THE PURPOSE OF FLOWERS.

BEAUTIFUL flowers, whose tender forms
Survive the deadly lightning's glare,
And bend your bosoms to the storms
That ride upon the midnight air!

Say, were ye only born to fade;

Or were your tints and odours given,
To give the spirit in the shade

Of this dull world some glimpse of heaven?

W. MARTIN

LA FARFALLA SULLA ROSA.

FARFALLETTA dorata

Sulla Rosa sedea,

E superba dicea

Per me la Rosa è nata,

E spiegava le alette

E le fresche cimette
Del fior giova scotendo;
E scherzando e giojendo
Repetea baldanjosa
Nata è per me la Rosa.
On mentre qual reina
Sta su quel trono e parla,
Giovine contadina
S'invoglia di predarla:
La man furtiva stende
Entro il pugno la prende
Le pinte ali le toglie
E poi la Rosa coglie,
"Non ti fidar se infiora

Tuoi di sorte pomposa;
Pensa che sei tu ancora
Farfalla sulla Rosa."

P

BERTOLA.

THE DIAL OF FLOWERS*.

'Twas a lovely thought to mark the hours,
As they floated in light away,

By the opening and the folding flowers,
That laugh to the summer's day.

Thus had each moment its own rich hue,
And its graceful cup and bell,

In whose coloured vase might sleep the dew,
Like a pearl in an ocean shell.

To such sweet signs might the time have flowed

In a golden current on,

Ere from the garden, man's first abode,
The glorious guests were gone.

So might the days have been brightly told—
Those days of song and dreams-
When shepherds gathered their flocks of old,
By the blue Arcadian streams.

* This dial is said to have been formed by Linnæus. It marked the hours by the opening and closing, at regular intervals, of the flowers arranged in it.