INNOCENT maid and snow-white flower,
Well are ye paired in your opening hour;
Thus should the pure and lovely meet,
Stainless with stainless, and sweet with sweet.
Throw it aside in thy weary hour;

Throw to the ground the fair white flower;
Yet as thy smiling years depart,

Keep that white and innocent heart.

Soft as the memory

of buried love,

BRYANT.

Pure as the prayer which childhood wafts above, the daughter of that rude old chief.

Was she

A mind rejoicing in the light

BYRON.

Which melted through its graceful bower,
Leaf after leaf serenely bright,

And stainless in its holy white,

Unfolding like a morning flower.

I wish the bud would never blow!
'Tis prettier and purer so:
It blushes through its bower of green,
And peeps above the mossy screen,

So timidly, I cannot bear

To have it open to the air!

WHITTIER.

MES. OSGOOD.

DANDELION.

Leontodon.

LANGUAGE-COQUETRY.

THINK not I love him, though I ask for him: 'Tis but a peevish boy — yet he talks well;

But what care I for words? yet words do well When he that speaks them pleases those that hear.

Then, youth, thou fond believer,

The wily siren shun:

Who trusts the dear deceiver

Will surely be undone.

SHAKSPEARE.

When beauty triumphs, ah, beware!
Her smile is hope! her frown despair!

MONTGOMERY'S WANDERER OF SWITZERLAND.

I would sooner bind

My thoughts to the open sky;

I would worship as soon a familiar star,

That is bright to every eye.

"Twere to love the wind that is free to all,

The wave of the beautiful sea —

"Twere to hope for all the light in heaven,

To hope for the love of thee.

Now I pray thee do not call

My cousin a coquette,

When I tell you she had danglers

By the dozen in her net :
For she was very beautiful,
Bewildering and bright.

WILLIS.

MRS. OSGOOD.

EGLANTINE, OR SWEETBRIER.

Rosa rubiginosa.

LANGUAGE-POETRY.

NEVER did poesy appear

So full of heaven to me, as when
I saw how it would pierce through pride and fear,

To the lives of coarsest men!

I thought, these men will carry hence

Promptings, their former life above,
And something of a finer reverence
For beauty, truth, and love.

The land of song within thee lies,
Watered by living springs;
The lids of Fancy's sleepless eyes
Are gates unto that paradise;
Holy thoughts, like stars, arise;
Its clouds are angels' wings.

J. R. LOWELL.

Look, then, into thy heart, and write;
Yes, into life's deep stream:
All forms of sorrow and delight,
All solemn voices of the night,
These can soothe thee, or affright:

Be these henceforth thy theme.

10001

LONGFELLOW.

1

EVERLASTING.

Gnaphalium.

LANGUAGE ALWAYS REMEMBERED.

THROUGH the fragrant grove of olives, with a darkeyed child of Spain,

I have often whiled the hours, since I crossed the moaning main ;

But the soul in those soft, brilliant eyes, the low, melodious tone,

Bade mournful thoughts of thee arise, my beautiful, my

own!

'Mid the vines of sunny France, love, I have twined the silken curl,

And met the merry kisses of a light and laughing girl, And richly waved the glittering tress, and wildly woke her glee!

I pined the more for thy caress more fondly thought of thee!

A haughty, high-born English maid oft shares with me the dance;

Italia's daughter bends on me her full, impassioned glance;

Nor graceful mien, nor dimpled bloom, nor look of loving light,

Can win this faithful soul from thee, my purest, and most

bright!

MRS. OSGOOD.

EVERGREEN.

Mespilus.

LANGUAGE POVERTY AND WORTH.

O, POOR man's son, scorn not thy state;
There is worse weariness than thine

In merely being rich and great :

Toil only gives the soul to shine,

And makes rest fragrant and benign-
A heritage, it seems to me,

Worth being poor to hold in fee.

My purse is very slim, and very few

The acres that I number;

But I am seldom stupid, never blue;

J. R. LOWELL.

My riches are an honest heart, and true,
And quiet slumber.

All my offering must be

Truth and spotless constancy.

EPES SARGent.

MISS LANDON.

She had passed through the shadow and sunlight of life;
She had learned, in its storms, to exult and endure;
And her gentle reply with sweet wisdom was rife—
"To me there are none in the universe poor!”