wunder · Library

Part 27

The Language of Flowers · Henrietta Dumont — chapter 27 of 85 · ~540 words · public domain

Read in the Wunder reader — free

* * * * *

Come, I have learned, that fearful commenting Is laden servitor to dull delay; Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary. Then fiery expedition be my wing, Jove’s Mercury, and herald for a king! Go, muster men: my counsel is my shield: We must be brief, when traitors brave the field.

Shakspeare.

* * * * *

Rouse thee! wake thy soul from sadness; Fail not in the eager strife! See around the bright earth’s gladness,-- All activity and life!

Peerbold.

HOLLYHOCK.... Ambition.

We have few flowers that contribute more to the ornamenting of large gardens than the Hollyhock, which, from its towering height and seeming love of display, is the emblem of ambition. The flowers are of all hues, from a blackish-purple to a faint white, and, though very beautiful, are without fragrance. They give gayety to the shrubbery until a late season of the year, throwing out a succession of flowers till the arrival of frost.

* * * * *

Yet, press on! For it shall make you mighty among men; And, from the eyrie of your eagle thought, Ye shall look down on monarchs. Oh! press on! For the high ones and powerful shall come To do you reverence; and the beautiful Will know the purer language of your soul, And read it like a talisman of love. Press on! for it is godlike to unloose The spirit, and forget yourself in thought.

Willis.

* * * * *

To the expanded and aspiring soul, To be but still the thing it long has been, Is misery, e’en though enthroned it were Under the cope of high imperial state.

Joanna Baillie.

* * * * *

Ay,--father!--I have had those earthly visions And noble aspirations in my youth, To make my own the mind of other men, The enlightener of nations: and to rise I knew not whither--it might be to fall; But fall, even as the mountain cataract, Which having leapt from its more dazzling height, Even in the foaming strength of its abyss, Lies low but mighty still.--But this is past, My thoughts mistook themselves.

Byron.

* * * * *

I loved to hear the war-horn cry, And panted at the drum’s deep roll; And held my breath, when--flaming high-- I saw our starry banners fly, As, challenging the haughty sky, They went like battle o’er my soul; For I was so ambitious then, I burned to be the slave--of men.

John Neal.

* * * * *

Know thou ambition is a restless flame, Which ever strives to reach the high-placed stars!

Peerbold.

* * * * *

Ambition takes a thousand shapes among Our race of Time’s most valued toys, and yet In court, in camp, in school, and mid the buzz Of eager trade her spirit is the same.

C. Watson.

LAUREL.... Glory.

Among the ancient Greeks and Romans, the Laurel was consecrated to every species of glory. The beautiful shrub grows abundantly at Delphi, on the banks of the river Peneus. There its aromatic and evergreen branches shoot up to the height of the loftiest trees; and it is alleged that, by means of some secret virtue, they avert lightning from the spots which they adorn.

← Previous chapterAll chaptersNext chapter →

The Language of Flowers · The Wunder Library — complete classics, free to read, with narration.

© 2026 Wunder Learning LLC · Terms & Privacy