ERIWINKLE, BLUE. Vinca Minor. Class 5, PENTANDRIA. Order: MONOGYNIA. There is an agreeable softness in the delicate blue colour of the periwinkle, and a quietness in the general aspect of the flower, that appears to harmonize with the retired situations where it loves to grow. It prefers the shady banks of the grove rather than to meet the meridian sun in the society of the gay plants of the parterre.

In France the flower has been made emblematical of the plea sures of memory, from the circumstance of Rousseau's saying, in one of his works, that as he and Madame Warens were proceeding to Charmettes, she was struck by the appearance of some blue flowers in the hedge, and exclaimed, "Here is the periwinkle still in flower." He then tells us, that thirty years afterwards, being at Gressier, with M. Peyron, climbing a hill, he observed some in blossom among the bushes, which bore his memory back at once to the time when he was walking with Madame Warens, and he inadvertently cried, "Ah! there is the periwinkle." Rousseau relates this anecdote as a proof of the vivid recollection he had of every incident which occurred at a particular time of his life, and hence this flower is made to represent "Les doux Souvenirs."

SWEET REMEMBRANCES.

Though fate upon this faded flower
His withering hand has laid,
Its odour'd breath defies his power,
Its sweets are undecay'd.

And thus, although thy warbled strains
No longer wildly thrill,

The memory of the song remains,

Its soul is with me still.

DRAKE.

ERSICARIA. Polygonum Oriental. Class 8, OCTANDRIA. Order: DIGYNIA. The seeds of this Asiatic plant were procured by M. Tournefort, from the garden of the three Churches near Mount Ararat, the spot on which the ark is supposed to have rested, from whence it is selected for the emblem

Yet it is not that age on my years has descended -
'Tis not that its snow-wreaths encircled my brow;
But the newness and sweetness of Being are ended -
I feel not their love-kindling witchery now:
The shadows of death o'er my path have been sweeping-
There are those who have loved me, debarr'd from the day,
The green turf is bright where in peace they are sleeping,
And on wings of remembrance my soul is away.

It is shut to the glow of this present existence
It hears, from the Past, a funereal strain;
And it eagerly turns to the high-seeming distance,
Where the last blooms of earth will be garner'd again;
Where no mildew the soft damask-rose cheek shall nourish
Where Grief bears no longer the poisonous sting;
Where pitiless Death no dark sceptre can flourish,
Or stain with his blight the luxuriant spring.

It is thus, that the hopes, which to others are given,
Fall cold on my heart in this rich month of May;
I hear the clear anthems which ring through the heaven-
I drink the bland airs that enliven the day;
And if gentle Nature, her festival keeping,

Delights not my bosom, ah! do not condemn ;
O'er the lost and the lovely my spirit is weeping,
For the heart's fondest raptures are buried with them.

CLARK.

ERSIMON. Diospyrus Virginiana. Class 23, POLYGAMIA. Order: DICIA. The Persimon, of the same genus as the Ebony, is a middling-sized tree, common in all parts of the United States south of lat. 41°. The

fruit which is as large as a Plum, is very

sweet when touched by the frosts, and fre

quently makes its appearance in our markets. An agreeable beverage is also obtained from it in some districts, by fermentation. The wood is used at Baltimore by turners, for large screws, and by tin-workers, for mallets; and at Philadelphia, for shoelasts; but though a common tree, it is usually of inconsiderable dimensions.

BURY ME AMID NATURE'S BEAUTIES.

In the wild forest-shade,

Under some spreading oak, or waving pine,
Or old elm, festoon'd with the gadding vine,
Let me be laid.

In this dim, lonely grot,

No foot, intrusive, will disturb my dust;
But o'er me songs of the wild bird shall burst-
Cheering the spot.

Not amidst charnel stones,

Or coffins dark, and thick with ancient mould-
With tatter'd pall, and fringe of canker'd gold,
May rest my bones.

But let the dewy rose,

The snow-drop, and the violet, lend perfume
Above the spot, where, in my grassy tomb,
I take repose.

Birds from the distant sea,

Shall sometimes hither flock on snowy wings,
And soar above my dust in airy rings,
Singing a dirge to me!

ANON.

IMPERNEL. Anagallis Arvensis. Class 5, PENTANDRIA. Order: MONOGYNIA. The common pimpernel is a beautiful trailing weed, and one of the Flore Horologica, opening its flowers regularly about eight minutes past seven o'clock, and closing them

about three minutes past two o'clock. It serves, also, as an hygrometer; for, if rain fall, or there be much moisture in the atmosphere, the flowers either do not open, or close up again. It is frequently called the shepherd's weatherglass.

ASSIGNATION.

Closed is the pink-eyed pimperne.,

"Twill surely rain, I see, with sorrow,
Our jaunt must be put off to-morrow.

"I'll go and peep at the Pimpernel,

JENNER.

And see if she think the clouds look well;

For if the sun shine,

And 't is like to be fine,

I shall go to the fair,

For my sweetheart is there:

So, Pimpernel, what bode the clouds and the sky?
If fair weather, no maiden so merry as I."

Now the Pimpernel-flower had folded up
Her little gold star in her coral cup,

And unto the maid

Thus her warning said:

66

Though the sun smile down,

There's a gathering frown

O'er the chequer'd blue of the clouded sky;

So tarry at home, for a storm is nigh."

TWAMLEY.

INE APPLE. Bromelia Ananas. Class 6, HEXANDRIA. Order: MONOGYNIA. The fruit of the pine apple, surrounded by its beautiful leaves, and surmounted by a crown in which the germ of a plant is concealed, seems as though it were sculptured in massy gold. It is so beautiful that it appears to be made to please the eyes; so delicious that it unites the various flavours of our best fruits; and so odoriferous that we should. cultivate it if it were only for its perfume.

Never till now

YOU ARE PERFECT.

- never till now, O queen

And wonder of the enchanted world of sound! Never till now was such bright creature seen,

Startling to transport all the regions round!

Whence comest thou-with those eyes and that fine mien,
Thou sweet, sweet singer? Like an angel found
Mourning alone, thou seem'st (thy mates all fled),
A star 'mongst clouds, a spirit 'midst the dead!
Melodious thoughts hang round thee:
Sorrow sings
Perpetual sweetness near,-divine despair!
Thou speak'st, and music, with her thousand strings,
Gives golden answers from the haunted air!

Thou movest, — and 'round thee Grace her beauty flings! Thou look'st, and Love is born! Oh! songstress rare,

Lives there on earth a power like that which lies
In those resistless tones, -in those dark eyes?-

Oh, I have lived. how long!

with one deep treasure

One fountain of delight unlock'd, unknown;

But thou, the prophetess of my new pleasure,
Hast come at last, and struck my heart of stone:
And now outgushes without stint or measure

The endless rapture, and in places lone

I shout it to the stars and winds that filee;
And then I think on all I owe to thee!

CORNWALL.