Part 8

Gay hope is theirs, by fancy fed, Less pleasing when possest; The tear forgot as soon as shed, The sunshine of the breast; Theirs buxom health, of rosy hue; Wild wit, invention ever new, And lively cheer of vigour born; The thoughtless day, the easy night, The spirits pure, the slumbers light, That fly the approach of morn. Alas, regardless of their doom, The little victims play! No sense have they of ills to come, No care beyond to-day. Yet see how all around them wait, The ministers of human fate, And black misfortune’s baleful train, Ah! show them where in ambush stand, To seize their prey, the murderous band! Ah, tell them they are men!

Gray’s Eton College.

Life went a Maying With Nature, Hope, and Poesy, When I was young!

Coleridge.

ICE-PLANT.... Frigidity.

Canst thou no kindly ray impart, Thou strangely beauteous one? Fairer than fairest work of art, Yet cold as sculptured stone! Thou art in Friendship’s bright domain A flower that yields no fruit; And Love declares thy beauty vain;-- Of fragrance destitute!

O. S. M. Ordway.

With pellucid studs the Ice-Flower gems His rimy foliage, and his candied stems.

Darwin.

As water fluid is, till it do grow Solid and fixed by cold, So in warm seasons love doth loosely flow; Frost only can it hold; Your coldness and disdain Does the sweet course restrain.

Cowley.

CACTUS.... Ardent Love.

The flower of the Cactus is chosen to signify ardent love, because of the glowing hues of the flower itself, and the heat of the climate in which the plant grows to the greatest size. The gorgeousness of the flower of the Cactus needs no eulogy. No fitter emblem could have been selected to represent the passion of love in its full flame.

I think of thee, when soft and wide The evening spreads her robes of light, And, like a young and timid bride, Sits blushing in the arms of night: And when the moon’s sweet crescent springs In light o’er heaven’s deep waveless sea, And stars are forth like blessed things, I think of thee--I think of thee.

G. W. Prentice.

Thou’rt like a star; for when my way was cheerless and forlorn, And all was blackness like the sky before a coming storm, Thy beaming smile and words of love, thy heart of kindness free, Illumed my path, then cheered my soul, and bade its sorrows flee. Thou’rt like a star--when sad and lone I wander forth to view The lamps of night, beneath their rays my spirit’s nerved anew, And thus I love to gaze on thee, and then I think thou’st power To mix the cup of joy for me, even in life’s darkest hour. Thou’rt like a star--whene’er my eye is upward turned to gaze Upon those orbs, I mark with awe their clear celestial blaze; And then thou seem’st so pure, so high, so beautifully bright, I almost feel as if it were an angel met my sight.

American Ladies’ Magazine.

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Could genius sink in dull decay, And wisdom cease to lend her ray; Should all that I have worshipped change, Even this could not my heart estrange; Thou still wouldst be the first, the first That taught the love sad tears have nursed.

Mrs. Embury.

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The sick soul That burns with love’s delusions, ever dreams, Dreading its losses. It for ever makes A gloomy shadow gather in the skies, And clouds the day; and looking far beyond The glory in its gaze, it sadly sees Countless privations, and far-coming storms, Shrinking from what it conjures.

Simms’s Poems.

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The rolling wheel, that runneth often round, The hardest steel in tract of time doth tear; And drizzling drops, that often do redound, Firmest flint doth in continuance wear: Yet cannot I, with many a dropping tear, And long entreaty, soften her hard heart, That she will once vouchsafe my plaint to hear, Or look with pity on my painful smart: But when I plead, she bids me play my part; And when I weep, she says tears are but water; And when I sigh, she says I know the art; And when I wail, she turns herself to laughter; So do I weep and wail, and plead in vain, While she as steel and flint doth still remain.

Spenser.

ALOE.... Grief.

The Aloe is attached to the soil by very feeble roots; it delights to grow in the wilderness, and its taste is extremely bitter. Thus grief separates us from earthly things, and fills the heart with bitterness. These magnificent and monstrous plants are found in barbarous Africa: they grow upon rocks, in dry sand under a burning atmosphere. Some have leaves six feet long, and armed with long spires. From the centre of these leaves shoots up a slender stem covered with flowers.