Part 22

We sometimes see a shadow swiftly skim In summer o’er the hills and vales of earth: So transient shades steal o’er the face of mirth, And frequent tears the brightest eyes bedim.

MacKellar.

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Thine is a grief that wastes the heart, Like mildew on a tulip’s dyes-- When hope, deferred but to depart, Loses its smiles but keeps its sighs.

Miss Landon.

WHITE ROSE.... I would be single.

How uneasy is his life Who is troubled with a wife! Be she ne’er so fair or comely, Be she foul or be she homely, Be she blithe or melancholy, Have she wit, or have she folly, Be she prudent, be she squandering, Be she staid, or be she wandering, Yet uneasy is his life Who is married to a wife.

Cotton.

The White Rose became celebrated in English history as the badge of the house of York, in the War of the Roses. Among the ancients, who considered the Rose as the queen of flowers, it was the custom to crown new-married persons with a chaplet of Red and White Roses; and in the procession of the Corybantes, the goddess Cybele, the protectress of cities, was pelted with White Roses.

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A single Rose is shedding Its lovely lustre meek and pale: It looks as planted by despair-- So white, so faint--the slightest gale Might whirl the leaves on high.

Byron.

YELLOW ROSE.... Jealousy.

Pfeffel, a German poet, has pleasingly accounted for the origin of the Yellow Rose, the emblem of envy and jealousy, in the following manner:

Once a White Rose-bud reared her head, And peevishly to Flora said, “Look at my sister’s blushing hue-- Pray, mother, let me have it too.” “Nay, child,” was Flora’s mild reply, “Be thankful for such gifts as I Have deemed befitting to dispense-- Thy dower the hue of innocence.” When did Persuasion’s voice impart Content and peace to female heart Where baleful Jealousy bears sway, And scares each gentler guest away? The Rose still grumbled and complained, Her mother’s bounties still disdained. “Well, then,” said angered Flora--“take”-- She breathed upon her as she spake-- “Henceforth no more in simple vest Of innocence shalt thou be drest-- Take that which better suits thy mind, The hue for Jealousy designed!” The Yellow Rose has from that hour Borne evidence of Envy’s power.

Is whispering nothing? Is leaning cheek to cheek?--is meeting noses? Kissing with inside lip?--stopping the career Of laughter with a sigh?--(a note infallible Of breaking honesty:)--horsing foot to foot?-- Skulking in corners?--wishing clocks more swift?-- Hours, minutes?--noon, midnight? and all eyes Blind with the pin and web, but theirs,--theirs only, That would unseen be wicked?--is this nothing? Why, then the world, and all that’s in it, is nothing.

Shakspeare.

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Thou wondrous yellow fiend! Temper an antidote with antimony, And ’tis infectious: Mix jealousy with marriage, It poisons virtue.

Davenport.

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O jealousy! thou bane of pleasing friendship, Thou worst invader of our tender bosoms; How does thy rancour poison all our softness, And turn our gentle natures into bitterness!

Rowe.

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Ah! poor unconscious rival maid, How drearily must thou sicken and fade, ’Neath jealousy’s dark Upas shade!

Tupper.

RED ROSE.... Beauty and Love.

According to ancient fable, the red colour of the Rose may be traced to Venus, whose delicate foot, when she was hastening to the relief of her beloved Adonis, was pierced by a thorn that drew blood,