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THE MUSK MALLOW.

Emblem of Meekness.

No flower is this of fiery hue,
Nor golden tint it bears;
It boasts not of cerulean blue,
Nor pearly whiteness wears;

Yet who can despise the sweet tints of this flower, Though it deck not the lawn, nor adorn ladye's bower?

There's nought beneath the vault of heaven,
That we may useless deem;

E'en to this plant a moral's given,

Though simple it may seem.

Emblem of meekness! who doth not hallow
The bright green leaf of the musk-scented mallow?

LE BOUQUET DES SOUVENIRS.

66 And if at times a transient breeze
Should sweep one blossom from the trees,
this flower

Returns the sweets by Nature given,
In softest incense back to heaven;
And grateful yields that smiling sky
Her fairest hue and fragrant sigh."

LORD BYRON, ADAPTED.

We ought not to overlook the minutest objects, but to examine them with a glass; for we shall then perceive how much art the Creator has bestowed upon them.

GESNER.

WE are too apt to treat the Almighty worse than a rational man would treat a good mechanic, whose works he would either thoroughly examine, or be ashamed to find any fault with them. This is the effect of a partial consideration of Nature; but he who has candour of mind, and leisure to look further, will be inclined to cry out,

How wondrous is the scene!

Where all is form'd . . .

For some good end.

STILLINGFLEET.

WALL SCREW-MOSS.

WHAT is that little creeping weed,
Whose verdure oft we see,
Hidden beneath the humblest reed,
Born on the loftiest tree?

'Tis Nature's livery round the globe,
Where'er her wonders range;
The fresh embroidery of her robe,
Through every season's change.

To deck the cottage in decay,
Its various guise is seen;
Upon the walls 'tis crisp'd and grey,
The roof is velvet green.

It decks the cloister's twilight pale,
The abbey's ruined aisle;
Light as the vestal's silken veil,

That muffles beauty's smile.

J. HOLLAND.

Moss that gathers on the stone,

Crown'd with its little knobs of flowers, is seen.

CLARE.

THE upright philosopher of the land of Uz, and that devoted admirer of the works of Nature, David, King of Israel, both took occasion to compare the uncertain tenure of human life, to the frail and perishable state of a flower. The prophet Isaiah represents the transient glory of the crown of pride, as being like one of these faded beauties; and our Saviour has demonstrated that an important lesson against too anxious care, and pride in dress, may be learned from a right consideration of these gay visitants.

BOOK OF NATURE.

Lo, the lilies of the field,

How their leaves instructions yield!
Hark to Nature's lesson given,

By the blessed birds of heaven;

Every bush and tufted tree,

Warbles sweet philosophy;

Mortal, flee from doubt and sorrow

God provideth for the morrow.

BISHOP HEBER.

MILKWORT.

OH! full of childhood's memories,
Sacred and sweet,

Year after year, with eager eyes,
Thee still I greet!

I love thee, for thou hast the power
To bring me back that joyous hour,
When first I mark'd thy simple flower
Bloom at my feet,

And thou couldst thrill my heart with unknown pleasure:

Another flower, a new one-oh, what treasure!

I know not when, I know not where

The prize I found,

But well I can recall the air

That breathed around.

The breezy down, the fragrant thyme,
The clear, soft sky of summer's prime;
Thou bring'st them back like some faint chime
Of far-off sound!

On the still ear thro' din and tumult stealing,
And to the listening heart sweet melodies re-

vealing.

M.S.

A.

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