Thus have I made this wreath of mine

And finished it featly.

III.

A chaplet me of herbs I'll make,
Than which though yours be braver,
Yet this of mine I'll undertake
Shall not be short in savour.
With basil then will I begin,
Whose scent is wondrous pleasing;
This eglantine I'll next put in,
The sense with sweetness seizing.
Then in my lavender I'll lay,
Muscado put among it,

And here and there a leaf of bay,
Which still shall run along it.
Germander, marjoram, and thyme,
Which used are for strewing,

With hyssop, as an herb most prime,
Here in my wreath bestowing.

Then balm and mint, helps to make up
My chaplet, and for trial,

Costmary* that so likes the cup,

flavour, for we read in Blount's Ancient Tenures, p. 133, of "a sextary of Julyflower wine." The custom of taking the real substantial sops in wine at weddings, is alluded to by Shakspeare, in his Taming of the Shrew, iii, 2:—

But after many ceremonies done,

He calls for wine: quaff'd off the muscadel,
And threw the sops all in the sexton's face.

* The herb, Basamita vulgaris, also called Alecost, as it was put into ale, being an aromatic bitter. Gerarde, in his Herbal, says, "Costmarie is put into barrels, amongst those herbs wherewith they do make sage-ale."

The leaves of the Burnet were used by our forefathers to give a grateful flavour to their cool tankards. In olden times the Borage, Alkanet, Roses, and Violets were reckoned, on account of their supposed exhilarating qualities, the four cordial flowers.

Some chamomile doth not amiss,
With savory and some tansy;

Then here and there, I'll put a sprig
Of rosemary into it:

Thus not too little nor too big,

'Tis done if I can do it.

DRAYTON, 1593.

THE DIAL OF FLOWERS.

'Twas a lovely thought to mark the hours,
As they floated in light away,

By the opening and the folding flowers
That laugh to the Summer's day.

Thus had each moment its own rich hue,
And its graceful cup or bell,

In whose colour'd vase might sleep the dew,
Like pearl in an ocean-shell.

To such sweet signs might the time have flow'd

In a golden current on,

Ere from the garden, man's first abode,

The glorious guests were gone.

So might the days have been brightly told—
Those days of song and dreams—
When shepherds gather'd their flocks of old,
By the blue Arcadian streams.

So in those isles of delight, that rest
Far off in a breezeless main,

Which many a bark, with a weary guest,
Has sought, but still in vain.

Yet is not life, in its real flight,
Mark'd thus-e'en thus-on earth,
By the closing of one hope's delight,
And another's gentle birth?

Oh! let us live, so that flower by flower,
Shutting in turn, may leave

A lingerer still for the sunset hour,

A charm for the shaded eve.

MRS. HEMANS.

Linnæus, in his Philosophia Botanica, (§ 335,) has divided the solar Flowers into three classes:-1. Meteoric flowers, which less accurately observe the hour of unfolding, but are expanded sooner or later, according to the cloudiness, moisture, or pressure of the atmosphere ;-2. Tropical flowers, that open in the morning and close before evening every day, but the hour of their expanding becomes earlier or later, as the length of the day increases or decreases :-3. Equinoctial flowers, which expand at a certain and exact hour of the day, and for the most part close at another determinate hour.-Besides these particular hours of expansion, Flowers have their almost certain months of efflorescence. Hence Snowdrops have sometimes been called the Fair Maids of February; the Lily of the Valley, the May-lily; the Wild Chamomile, the May-weed; and the Pink, the Gilli-flower, or July-flower. It has also been observed by Linnæus, that the Thistle does not expand its flowers before the Summer solstice; the Grass of Parnassus, before the hay-harvest; and that the Autumn Crocus is the forerunner of cold and wintry weather. Do we not all look for the violet and primrose in Spring, and for the rose in Summer; and are not the words of the Prophet of old, as applicable to the flowers of the field, as they are to the fowls of the air?" Yea, the stork in the heaven knoweth her appointed times; and the turtle, and the crane, and the swallow observe the time of their coming."Jer. viii. 7.

THE PALM-TREE.

THE Palm-tree in the wilderness
Majestic lifts its head,
And blooms in solitary grace,
Where all around is dead:
It spreads a shadow in the sun,
Where shade beside is none;
And all companionship doth shun,
And loves to dwell alone.

And, though by man it lives unseen
Amid the desert air,

It rears its canopy of green,

As smilingly and fair,

As if young lovers pledg'd their vows
When sultry day had flown,
Beneath its high o'erarching boughs,

That blossom all alone.

Though there no passing warbler wings

Her melancholy way,

A voice amid the desert sings
Its solitude away,

When winds-as o'er the air-harp's wire

Half music and half moan

Come stealing o'er its leafy lyre,

That murmurs all alone.

And 'neath its shadow, lull'd to sleep,
Alone the pilgrim dreams;

Its soft and breezy whispers creep,
Like sounds of his own streams,
That wander by the bowers of rest,
To which his soul hath flown,
Till morning, on the lifeless waste,
Awakes him all alone.

Sojourner of a weary land,

Where Nature never smil'd,

Surrounded by no kindred band,

Sole orphan of the wild!—

Thou seem'st like one, whose trusting breast
Deceiv'd the world hath flown-
Sought, like the dove, a place of rest,

To live and die alone!

JOHN MALCOLM.

The Palm, called also the Date-tree, Phænix dactylifera, grows plentifully in the East. Its trunk is remarkably straight and lofty, and is crowned at the top with large tufts of evergreen leaves, about four or five feet long, and so broad as to be used for covering the roofs of houses. "The extensive importance of the Date-tree," says Dr. E. D. Clarke, "is one of the most curious subjects, to which a traveller can direct his attention. The inhabitants of Egypt, of Arabia, and Persia, subsist almost entirely on its fruit. They boast also its medicinal virtues. The camels feed upon the date-stone. From the leaves are made couches, baskets, bags, mats, and brushes; from the branches, cages for poultry, and fences for their gardens; from the fibres of the boughs, thread, ropes, and rigging; from the sap is prepared a spirituous liquor; and the body of the tree furnishes fuel "-Travels, Pt. ii. p. 302. This tree was greatly esteemed by the Israelites; in later times it became the emblem of their country, as may be seen from a medal of the Emperor Vespasian upon the conquest of Judea; on which is represented a captive woman sitting under a palm-tree, with this inscription, Judaa capta. Pliny calls Judea, palmis inclyta, renowned for palms.-Nat. Hist. xiii. 4. The leaves of the palm were in early ages used as a substitute for paper, and it has been supposed that the Scriptures were originally written on them. Mrs. Tighe pleasingly observes :

With fruit and ever-verdant branches crown'd,
Judea chose her emblem; on whose leaves

She first inscrib'd her Oracles, and all
The fortunes of her state; herself a palm

Still mounting from its ashes, though depress'd,
Still springing unsubdued.

Among the eastern nations, the highest act of charity, by which a man could commend his memory to future generations, was the erection of a fountain shaded by palms in the dreary and parched desert, where the weary pilgrim might rest under the shelter of trees and refresh himself with the cool and pure stream. "He joyfully hailed the sight of two or three palm-trees, which arose beside the well which was assigned for his mid-day station."-The Talisman, p. 8.

THE CORAL INSECT.

TOIL on! toil on! ye ephemeral train,

Who build in the tossing and treacherous main;

Toil on, for the wisdom of man ye mock,

With your sand-bas'd structures and domes of rock;
Your columns the fathomless fountains lave,

And your arches spring up to the crested wave;
Ye're a puny race, thus to boldly rear

A fabric so vast in a realm so drear.

Ye bind the deep with your secret zone,
The ocean is seal'd, and the surge a stone;