The Floral Offering. MEZEREON.... Coquetry—Desire to please. This shrub, clothed in its showy garb, appears amidst the snow, like an imprudent and coquettish female, who, though shivering with cold, wears her spring attire in the depth of winter. The stalk of this shrub is covered with a dry bark, which gives it the appearance of dead wood. Nature, to hide this deformity, has encircled each of its sprays with a wreath of red flowers, terminating in a tuft of leaves. These flowers give out a peculiar and offensive smell. You oftentimes can mark upon the street Avoiding alway what good sense advises. W. H. C. 13 Clouds turn with every wind about; Swift. Thou delightest the cold world's gaze, When crowned with the flower and the gem, But thy lover's smile should be dearer praise Than the incense thou prizest from them. And gay is the playful tone, As to the flattering voice thou respondest; But what is the praise of the cold and unknown To the tender blame of the fondest? John Everett. Know, Celia, (since thou art so proud,) 'Twas I that gave thee thy renown: Thou hadst, in the forgotten crowd Of common beauties, lived unknown, Had not my verse exhaled thy name, And with it impt the wings of Fame. That killing power is none of thine, I gave it to thy voice and eyes: Thy sweets, thy graces, all are mine; Thou art my star, shin'st in my skies! Then dart not from thy borrowed sphere Lightning on him that fixed thee there. Thomas Carew. SNOWDROP....Hope. The Snowdrop is looked upon as the herald of the approach of flower-wreathed Spring. The north winds howl; the naked branches of the trees are white with frost; the earth is carpeted with the virgin snow; the feathered musicians are silent; and stern Winter's icy hand chills the rivulet till it ceases to murmur. this season, a tender flower springs up amid the snow, expands its blossoms, and leads thought to the verdant hours to come. This beautiful sign of awakening Nature may aptly be considered as the emblem of Hope. The Snowdrop, winter's timid child, All weak and wan, with head inclined, Where'er I find thee, gentle flower, Thou still art sweet and dear to me; Mary Robinson. At |