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SOLOMON'S SEAL.

(Convallaria polygonatum.)

Tuis plant is perennial, and a native of Britain, growing in rocky and woody parts, and flowering in May and June. The root is beset with knobs, and marked with circular depressions, resembling the impression of a seal; hence it has acquired the

" Solomon's Seal." In Galen's time this plant was much used by ladies to remove freckles, and for beautifying the skin. The berries, flowers, and leaves, are said to be poisonous.

name

Class, HEXANDRIA.

Order, MONOG YNIA.

TO SOLOMON'S SEAL.

White bud ! that in meek beauty so dost lean,

Thy cloistered cheek as pale as moonlight snow, Thou seem'st beneath thy large high leaf of green,

An eremite beneath his mountain's brow. White bud! thou’rt emblem of a lovetide thing,

The broken spirit that'its anguish bears To silent shades; and there sits offering

To heaven the holy fragrance of its tears.

ANON.

SWEET flower, you fondly strive to hide

Your lovely form from public view, While the gay blossom's eastern pride

Appears in every varied hue.

So will a cultur'd feeling mind,

Oft trembling shrink from worldly gaze; Whilst flippant wit, at ease reclined,

Spreads all around its transient rays.

Yet do I love that modest flower,

Which blossoms in the humble shade, And asks not for the sun's bright power,

By which this splendid plant's arrayed.

ANON.

SPARE MY FLOWER.

Oh spare my flower, my gentle flower,

The slender creature of a day!
Let it bloom out its little hour,

And pass away.
Too soon its fleeting charms must lie

Decayed, unnoticed, overthrown;
O, hasten not its destiny,

Too like thy own.

The breeze will roam this way tomorrow,

And sigh to find its playmate gone : The bee will come its sweets to borrow,

And meet with none. O spare ! and let it still outspread

Its beauties to the passing eye, And look up from its lowly bed,

Upon the sky.

O spare my flower! thou know'st not what

Thy undiscerning hand would tcar; A thousand charms thou notest not,

Lic treasured there.

TO SOLOMON'S SEAL.

White bud ! that in meek beauty so dost lean,

Thy cloistered cheek as pale as moonlight snow, Thou seem'st beneath thy large high leaf of green,

An eremite beneath his mountain's brow. White bud! thou’rt emblem of a lovetide thing,

The broken spirit that its anguish bears To silent shades; and there sits offering

To heaven the holy fragrance of its tears.

ANON

Swert flower, you fondly strive to hide

Your lovely form from public view, While the gay blossom's eastern pride

Appears in every varied hue.

So will a cultur'd feeling mind,

Oft trembling shrink from worldly gaze ; Whilst flippant wit, at ease reclined,

Sprcads all around its transient rays.

Yet do I love that modest flower,

Which blossoms in the humble shade, And asks not for the sun's bright power, By which this splendid plant's arrayed.

ANON.

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