6. The winds and the waters of the sea,

The fix'd poles and the bright stars peepingAre dearer now than all else to me,

Since my love-light-life-are in their keeping. O merciful Gods who o'er us move! O Rulers of all around-aboveProtect and shield my love!

7.
Thy pensive bride is weeping alone,

And tearing her hair asunder :-
Yes! thy turtle-dove doth nought but moan

Now the storms and tempests thunder.
Thou loved-one !-loved-one !-while apart
What anguish fills her sorrowing heart
Who lives but where thou art.

8. My love is now floating away from me

On the waves that so loudly are sounding,
As they rise from the vast and foaming sea

O'er whose bosom his ship is bounding.
Sail on, sail on, with breezes fair,
And never from thy memory tear
The girl whose home is there.

mo Xestien is't soo baest bergbeten,
mpn lang vervolg van dagb en nacht.

Groote Brou der Mianen, p. 18.

1.
Can'st thou so soon unkindly sever

My long, long suit from memory?
The precious time now lost for ever,

The vanish'd moments pass'd with thee,
In friendliness, in happiness,
In love's caress, and converse free from guile,
From night till morning, and 'neath twilight's smile?

A father's rage and friends' derision

For thee I've borne, when thou wert kind ; But they fled by me as a vision

That fades and leaves no trace bebind. Oh! thus I deem'd, when fondly beam'd, And purely gleam'd, those brilliant eyes, whose ray Hath made me linger near thee through the day.

3. How oft those tender hands I've taken,

And drawn them to my breast, whose flame Seem'd, at their gentle touch, to waken

To feelings I dared scarcely name. I wish'd to wear a lattice there Of crystal clear or purest glass, that well Thou might'st behold what tongue could never tell.

4. Oh! could the heart within me glowing

E'er from its cell have been removed, I had not shrunk--that heart bestowing

On thee, whom I so warmly loved : So long'd to wed, so cherished. Ah! who could dread that thou would'st wanton be, And so inconstant in thy love to me!

* 5.
Another youth has stolen ny treasure,

And placed himself upon the throne,
Where late 1 reign’d, supreme in pleasure,

And weakly thought it all my own.
What causes now that chilling brow?
Or where did'st thou such evil counsel gain
As thus to pride and glory in my pain ?

6.
What thoughts, too painful to be spoker,

Hath falsehood for thy soul preparel,
When thou survey'st each true-love token,

And think'st of joys together shared !
Of vows we made beneath the shade,
And kisses paid by my fond lips to thine,
And given back with murmur'd sigh to mine.

7.
Bethink thee of those hours of wooing-

Of words that seem'd the breath of tru:h-
The Eden thou hast made a ruin-

My wither'd hopes and blighted youth!
It wonders me that thou shouldst be
So calm and free, nor dread the rage that burns
Within the heart where love to malice turns.

8.
Away-away-accursed deceiver !

With tears delude the eyes and brain
Of him, the fond—the weak believer

Who follows now thy fickle train.
That senseless hind (to whom thou’rt kind
Not for his mind, but for his treasured ore)
Disturbs me not-farewell! we meet no more.

a

V. D.

THE DAISY.*

BELLIS.

CORYMBIFERÆ.

SYNGENESIA POLYGAMIA SUPERFLUA. The botanical name is derived from the Latin word bellus, handsome. In Yorkshire called Dog-daisy and Bairnwort. The word Daisy is a compound of day's and eye, Day's-eye; in which way, indeed, it is written by Ben Jonson.-French, la paquerette, paquerette vivace; paquette; marguerite [pearl] ; petite marguerite ; petite consire : in Languedoc, margarideta.-Italian, margheritena ; margherita ; pratellina (meadowflower] ; bellide; fiore di primavera (spring-tide flower.]

Who can see, or hear the name of flowers. Turn it all ways, and on the Daisy, the common Field Daisy, every side you will find new beauty. without a thousand pleasurable as- You are attracted by the snowy sociations! It is connected with the white leaves, contrasted by the golden sports of childhood and with the tuft in the centre, as it rears its head pleasures of youth. We walk abroad above the green grass: pluck it, and to seek it; yet it is the very emblem you will find it backed by a delicate of home. It is a favourite with man, star of green, and tipped with a woman, and child: it is the robin of blush-colour, or a bright crimson.

• From Flora Domestica, or the Portable Flower Garden : with Directions for the Treatment of Plants in Pots, and Illustrations from the Works of the Poets. 8vo. London, 1823.

Daisies with their pinky lashes
are among the first darlings of spring.
They are in flower almost all the
year; closing in the evening and in
wet weather, and opening on the re-
turn of the sun.

The little dazie, that at evening closes.
Spenser.

By a daizie, whose leaves spread
Shut when Titan goes to bed.
G. Withers.

No flower has been more frequently celebrated by our poets, our best poets; Chaucer, in particular, expatiates at great length upon it. He tells us tha the Queen Alceste, who sacrificed her own life to save that of her husband Admetus, and who was afterwards restored to the world by Hercules, was, for her great goodness, changed into a Daisy. He is never weary of praising this little flower:

Whan that the month of May

Is comen, and that I heare the foules sing,
And that the floures ginnen for to spring,
Farewell my booke, and my devocion,
Now have I than eke this condicion,
That of all the floures in the mede,

And this was now the first morowe of Maie,
With dreadfull herte, and glad devocion
For to been at the resurrection
Of this floure, whan that it should unclose.
Again the sunne, that rose as redde as rose,
That in the brest was of the beast that day
That Angenores daughter ladde away.
And doune on knees anon right I me sette,
And as I coulde, this fresh floure I greete,
Kneeling alway till it unclosed was,
Upon the small soft swete grass,

That was with floures swete embrouded all,
Of such sweteness, and odour over all,

That for to speak of gomme, herbe, or tree,
Comparison may not imaked be,
And of riche beaute of floures.
For it surmounteth plainly all odoures,

sprede,

And Zephyrus and Flora gentelly
Yave to the floures soft and tenderly,
Hir swete breth, and made hem for to
As god and goddesse of the flourie mede,
In which me thought I might day by daie,
Dwellen alway the joly month of Maie,
Withouten slepe, withouten meat, or drinke:
Adowne full softly I gan to sinke,
And leaning on my elbow and my side,
The long day I shope me for to abide,
For nothing els and I shall not lie,
But for to look upon the daisie,
That well by reason men it call may
The daisie, or els the iye of the day.

Than love I most these floures white and The emprise, and floure of floures all,

rede,

I

pray to God, that faire mote she fall, And all that loven floures for her sake:

Chaucer makes a perfect plaything nature, has addressed several little of the Daisy. Not contented with poems to the Daisy: calling to our minds its etymology as the eye of day, he seems to delight from hill to hill, in discontent

In youth from rock to rock I went, in twisting it into every possible Of pleasure high and turbulent, form; and, by some name or other, Most pleased when most uneasy; introduces it continually. Commend. But now my own delights I makė, ing the showers of April, as bringing My thirst at every till can slake, forward the May flowers, he adds : And gladly Nature's love partake

Of thee, sweet daisy ! And in speciall one called se of the daie, The daisie, a flower white and rede, When soothed awhile by milder airs, And in Frenche called La Bel Margarete. Thee Winter in the garland wears O commendable floure, and most in minde! That thinly shades his few grey hairs ; O floure and gracious of excellence !

Spring cannot shun thee; O amiable Margarite! of natife kind Whole Summer fields are thine by right; In another poem, describing an ar

And Autumn, melancholy wight,

Doth in thy crimson head delight bour, he says:

When rains are on thee.
With margarettes growing in ordinaunce
To shewe hem selfe as folke went to and fro, Thou greet'st the traveller in the lane ;

In shoals and bands, a morrice train,
That to beholde it was a great plesaunce,
And how they were accompanied with mo,

If welcomed once, thou count'st it gain; Ne momblisnesse and soneness also

Thou art not daunted,

Nor carest if thou be set at nought: The poure pensis were not dislogid there,

And oft alone in nooks remote Ne God wote ther place was every where,

We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, He tells us that the Queen Alceste, When such are wanted. who was changed into this flower, had as many virtues as there are Be violets in their secret mews florets in it: and that

The flowers the wanton Zephyrs choose;

Proud be the rose, with rains and dews Cybilla made the daisie, and the flour Her head impearling : Icrownid all with white, as man may se;

Thou liv'st with less ambitious aim, And Alars yave her a corown red, parde, Yet hast not gone without thy fame; In stede of rubies set among the white. Thou art indeed by many a claim

The poet's darling.
The daisy scattered on each meade and
downe,

If to a rock from rains he fly,
A golden tufte within a silver croune. Or some bright day of April sky,
Fayre fall that dainty flowre! and may Imprisoned by hot sunshine lie
there be

Near the green holly,
No shepherd graced that doth not honor thee! And wearily

at length should fare ;

W. Browne. He need but look about, and there But the Field Daisy is not an in- Thou art !- a friend at hand, to scare

His melancholy habitant of the flower-garden: it were vain to cultivate it there. We A hundred times, by rock or bower, have but to walk into the fields, and Ere thus I have lain couched an hour, there is a profusion for us. It is the Have I derived from thy sweet power favourite of the great garden of Na

Some apprehension ; ture:

Some steady love ; some brief delight;

Some memory that had taken flight; Meadows triin with daisies pied. Some chime of fancy, wrong or right;

The reader will doubtless remem- Or stray invention. ber Burns's Address to a Mountain If stately passions in me burn, Daisy, beginning.

And one chance look to thee should turn,

I drink out of an humbler urn Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flower.

A lowlier pleasure ; The Scotch commonly call it by The homely sympathy that heeds the name of Gowan ; a name which The common life, our nature breeds ; they likewise apply to the dandelion, A wisdom fitted to the needs

Of bearts at leisure. hawk-weed, &c. The opening gowan, wet with dew.

When, smitten by the morning ray,

I see thee rise alert and gay, Wordsworth, with a true poet's Then, cheerful flower ! my spirits play delight in the simplest beauties of With kindred gladness :

And when, at dusk, by dews opprest The roots should be parted every Thou sink'st, the image of thy rest autumn: they should be taken up in Hath often eased my pensive breast September of October, parted into Of careful sadness.

single plants, and put in pots about And all day long I number yet,

five inches wide.

When in pots, All seasons through, another debt, they will require a little water every Which I, wherever thou art met

evening in dry weather. To thee am owing;

Rousseau, in his Letters on BoAn instinct call it, a blind sense ;

tany, gives a long and beautiful deA happy genial influence, Coming one knows not how nor whence,

scription of the structure of the

Daisy.
Nor whither going.
Child of the Year! that round dost run
Thy course, bold lover of the sun,

A long extract, like the preceding, And cheerful when the day's begun sufficiently exemplifies the plan of As morning leveret,

the Flora Domestica, and gives a Thy long-lost praise thou shalt regain; fairer notion of the way in which Dear shalt thou be to future men

it is executed, than the most elaboAs in old time ;-thou, not in vain,

rate critique: we have no doubt, that Art Nature's favourite.

our readers will rise from the perusal Nor in vain is it a favourite with of it quite as well satisfied as if we the poet, who emulates Chaucer had stept before the author, and said himself in doing it honour. At one

“ Here is a person who professes to time he describes it as

have something interesting and use

ful to communicate to you; but we A nun demure, of lowly port ;

have conversed with him, and suckOr sprightly maiden of Love's court,

ed his brains,' and now you have In her simplicity the sport

only to hear what we have to tell Of all temptations. A queen in crown of rubies drest ;

you, and our informant may go about

his business. A starveling in a scanty vest ;

The fee we ask for Are all as seems to suit it best,

taking all this trouble for your sakes Its appellations.

is but small compared with the recomA little Cyclops with one eye

pence he would demand; for he has

devoted much time, and talent, to Staring to threaten and defy, That thought comes next, - and instantly

the subject on which his heart is set: The freak is over,

but we have had no occasion to The shape will vanish ; and, behold! study; a day or two is all the time A silver shield with boss of gold,

we have spent on the subject; and That spreads itself, some faery bold instead of labour, we have been In fight to cover.

agreeably occupied in hearing the But again we must remember this progress and the results of his inquiis not to be a reprint of Mr. Wordse ries then as for talent,-we have

no demand to make on that score, worth's poems. of the Garden Daisy, there are required to tell a plain unvarnished

for had we possessed more than is many varieties : the Double White; tale, or to carry a message in other Red Red and White Striped; the and perhaps fewer words than it was Variegated; the Proliferous, or Hen delivered in, we might have been too and Chicken, &c. These, indeed, are but double varieties of the Fielá proud for the profitable office we Daisy, but less prolific, and flower

now possess, and bave had nothing

but ing only for a few months—April, May, and June.

Virtue, though in rags, to keep us warm." The Annual resembles the Com- This is not an imaginary picture, mon Daisy, but is not so large: it is nor an overcharged representation a native of Sicily, Spain, Montpelier, of the principle on which too Verona, and Nice.

many reviews are conducted.

We The Garden Daisy should be remember seeing the prospectus of planted in a loamy, unmanured earth, one lately, where, among other claims and placed in the shade ; as the full to public favour, it was stated, that noon-day sun will sometimes kill it every new book worth reading would

Sce in Chaucer and the elder poets, the honours formerly paid to this flower.