Part 34

MacKellar.

ANEMONE.... Forsaken.

Anemone was a nymph, beloved by Zephyr. Flora, jealous of her, banished her from her court and transformed her into a flower, that blows before the return of spring. Zephyr has abandoned this unhappy beauty to the rude caresses of Boreas, who, unable to gain her love, harshly shakes her, half opens her blossoms, and causes her immediately to fade. An Anemone, with these words, Brevis est usus--“Her reign is short”--is touchingly expressive of the transitory nature of beauty.

In spring the green woods of merry England are covered with the flowers of the Anemone. Turn the eye whichever way you will, there it greets you like “a pleasant thought;” it forms a bed of flowers around the foot of the mighty oak, and below the tangling brambles, which you may peep between, but cannot pass,--there, also, are its pearly blossoms bending. The Greeks named it the flower of the Wind, and so plentiful is it in our country that we might fancy the breeze had blown it everywhere. The gaudy Anemone of the garden, the emblem of forsaken love, is known to all; but our favourites are the uncultivated offspring of the windy woods, which come long before the broad green leaves hang overhead to shelter them.

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All flowers will droop in absence of the sun That waked their sweets.

Dryden.

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Farewell! I’ve loved thee much!--I feel That my idolatry was deep; I know my heart can never heal, Till in the grave my passions sleep. Yet I upbraid thee not, my love; ’Twas all I had to offer thee, Love in its own simplicity. How could I deem thou wouldst approve? How hope to draw an angel from above?

Willis.

ACACIA.... Friendship.

The Acacia is a native of North America, from Canada to the Carolinas, and was consecrated by the Indians to the goddess of chaste love. Their bows were made of the incorruptible wood of this tree, and their arrows were pointed with its thorns. About a century ago, this tree was introduced into France by Robin, the botanist. It is a large, handsome tree, of quick growth, elegant foliage, and beautiful, rose-coloured blossoms.

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Celestial happiness! Whene’er she stoops To visit earth, one shrine the goddess finds, And one alone, to make her sweet amends For absent heaven--the bosom of a friend, Where heart meets heart, reciprocally soft, Each other’s pillow to repose divine.

Young.

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The friend Who smiles when smoothing down the lonely couch, And does kind deeds, which any one can do Who has a feeling spirit,--such a friend Heals with a searching balsam.

Percival.

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Lay this into your breast: Old friends, like old swords, still are trusted best.

Webster.

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O summer friendship, Whose flattering leaves, that shadowed us in Our prosperity, with the least gust drop off In the autumn of adversity!

Massinger.

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When thou art near, The sweetest joys still sweeter seem, The brightest hopes more bright appear, And life is all one happy dream, When thou art near.

Robert Sweney.

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