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ROSES AND ROSE GARDENS.

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the Rosa Carolina, and the double pale pink Rosa Evratina, which perishes if transplanted to the garden from its native soil on the banks of the Virginian stream. Pennsylvania, Carolina, Mexico, all have their roses.

Asia boasts a greater variety of species than the rest of the earth united; thirty-nine that admit of accurate definition having been already established. of these, China has a claim to fifteen.

In the gardens of Kandahar, Samarcand, and Ispahan, the Rosa arborea is cultivated in great profusion by the Persians. The Rosa Damascena, or Damask rose, transplanted to Europe from Damascus by the Crusaders, adorns in infinite beautiful varieties the sandy deserts of Syria. At the extremity of Asia, towards Constantinople, the Rosa sulphurea displays its very double flowers of a brilliant yellow.

Siberia and Lapland even have their roses. In England we have six indigenous species. For France nineteen species are claimed by the flora of De Candolle ; in the southern provinces is found the Rosa eglanteria, whose golden petals are sometimes varied into a rich orange; the Rosa spinosissima grows in the sandy plains of the southern provinces, having white flowers tipped with yellow, which have furnished many beautiful varieties; and in the forests of Auvergne, and the departments of the Vosges, we find the Rosa cinnamomea, which derives its name from the colour of its branches, the flowers being small, red, and solitary. The Rosa Gallica is one which has afforded varieties of every hue, more especially the kind known as Provence roses, white, pink, or crimson. In the eastern Pyrenees, grows the Rosa moschata, a beautiful variety known in our gardens as the nutmeg-rose. The Rosa alba is found in the hedges and thickets of several of the departments. The Swiss and Alpine chains in general are rich in native roses. Italy and Spain and Germany have each several distinct species, and in the eastern and southern countries of Europe rose-trees abound, of which a considerable number remain unexamined and unclassified. All the various species being continually hybridised by the appliances of modern science, botanists now number between two and three thousand varieties, and every year increases the catalogue.

The aim is to improve in colour, form, fragrance, robustness, and constancy of blooming. The so-called hybrid-perpetual roses, achieved by floriculturists about fifteen or sixteen years ago, are now the favourite class, as they flower both in summer and autumn, and are in general hardy and fragrant. The Géant des Batailles, Baronne Prevost, Duchess of Sutherland, La Reine, Madame Soffay, Mrs. Elliot, Souvenir de la Melendeson, are fine types of this now extensive class. The tea-scented roses, likewise autumnal bloomers, are deservedly great favourites, especially Devoniensis, which is perhaps the most perfect type of this class.

According to Mr. Paul, there are thirty-eight different families or groups of roses, each comprising numerous distinct varieties; for exact information as to these, the reader cannot do better than consult his book, “The Rose Garden."

Among the private cultivators of roses in the neighbourhood of London may be mentioned Mr. Henry G. Bohn, the publisher of this work, in whose fine garden at Twickenham upwards of one thousand varieties of this beautiful flower are brought to great perfection. Speaking of Mr. Bohn's garden we are reminded of the social enjoyment which it is made to furnish in the season of its roses, when the numerous friends of this gentleman assemble at a floral fête, greatly superior in good taste, at least, to those ancient feasts of flowers of which we have spoken; and, taking such an entertainment as a type, we would recommend beautiful flower-gardens to all the fortunate possessors of them as the most noble reception-rooms for even hundreds of guests, who, amid the splendour and amenity of the summer-garden, and in the open air, appear to great advantage, and physically and mentally are brought into harmony with the scene. Such fêtes are infinitely refreshing and exhilarating, and might be advantageously introduced among persons of moderate fortune, who, in well-kept and pleasant gardens, might entertain their friends without any extraordinary expense, much more agreeably than within their houses where the rooms are often small, and, especially in the summer season, unfit for the accommodation of numerous guests.

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O Rose, thou flower of flowers, thou fragrant wonder,

Who shall describe thee in thy ruddy prime,

Thy perfect fulness in the summer time;
When the pale leaves blushingly part asunder,
And show the warm red heart lies glowing under ?

Thou shouldst bloom surely in some sunny clime,

Untouch'd by blights and chilly winter's rime, Where lightnings never flash, nor peals the thunder. And yet in happier spheres they cannot need thee

So much as we do with our weight of woe ;
Perhaps they would not tend, perhaps not heed thee,

And thou wouldst lonely and neglected grow;
And He who is all-wise, He hath decreed thee
To gladden earth and cheer all hearts below.

CHRISTINA G. ROSETTI.

A ROSE FROM MRS. BROWNING'S DESERTED GARDEN.

I mind me in the days departed,
How often underneath the sun,
With childish bounds I used to run

To a garden long deserted.

The beds and walks were vanished quite ;-
And wheresoe'er had struck the spade,
The greenest grasses nature laid,

To sanctify her right.

I called the place my wilderness,
For no one entered there but I.
The sheep looked in, the grass to espy,

And passed it ne'ertheless.

The trees were interwoven wild,
And spread their boughs enough about
To keep both sheep and shepherd out,

But not a happy child.

Adventurous joy it was for me!
I crept beneath the boughs and found
A circle smooth of mossy ground

Beneath a poplar tree.

Old garden rose-trees hedged it in
Bedropt with roses waxen-white,
Well satisfied with dew and light

And careless to be seen.

It did not move my grief to see
The trace of human step departed,
Because the garden were deserted,

The blither place for me!

Friends, blame me not: a narrow ken,
Hath childhood twixt the sun and sward :
We draw the moral afterward-

We feel the gladness then.

The gladdest hours for me did glide
In silence at the rose-tree wall:
A thrush made gladness musical,

Upon the other side.

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For oft I read within my nook
Such minstrel stories till the breeze
Made sounds poetic in the trees,

And then I shut my book.

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