Herrick, in his Hesperides, says that this fragrant plant, Rosmarinus officinalis, Grows for two ends, it matters not at all, Be 't for my bridal, or my burial. Shakspeare intimates, that it is esteemed for strengthening the memory, and for that purpose Ophelia presents it to Laertes; There's rosemary, that's for remembrance.-Hamlet, iv, 6. He also mentions its use at funerals.-Romeo, iv, 5. THE ELEPHANT. CALM amid scenes of havock, in his own So Greek and Roman peasants build their huts Or on the ruins of the Capitol. MONTGOMERY. THE DAISY. NOT worlds on worlds, in phalanx deep, For who but HE who arch'd the skies, Could raise the Daisy's purple bud, Mould its green cup, its wiry stem, And fling it unrestrain❜d and free, DR. J. M. GOOD. The Field-Daisy, insignificant as it apparently is, exhibits on examination, a world of wonders. Scores of minute blossoms compose its disk and border, each distinct, each useful, each delicately beautiful. The florets of the centre, are yellow or orange-coloured, while those of the ray are snow-white, tinged underneath with crimson. The following remark of Gedner is particularly applicable to this interesting little flower. "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." Woe to the man, whose wit disclaims its use, COWPER. THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. IN Eastern lands they talk in flowers, And they tell in a garland their loves and cares; Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers, On its leaves a mystic language bears. The Rose is a sign of Joy and Love, Young blushing love in its earlier dawn; Pure as the heart in its native heaven; The silent, soft, and humble heart In the Violet's hidden sweetness breathes; And the tender soul that cannot part, A twine of Evergreen fondly wreathes. The Cypress that daily shades the grave, Is sorrow that mourns her bitter lot; And faith that a thousand ills can brave, Speaks in thy blue leaves-Forget-me-not. Then gather a wreath from the garden bowers J. G. PERCIVAL. THE GLOW-WORM. WHEN Evening closes Nature's eye, To captivate her favourite fly, And tempt the rover through the dark. L Conducted by a sweeter star, Than all that decks the fields above, To soothe her solitude with love. Thus in this wilderness of tears Turns to the light of love in vain ; He, on the dark and lonely main. MONTGOMERY. An old writer has well observed, "Dost thou not know, that a perfect friend should be like the glaze-worm, which shineth most bright in the darke ?" The Star, in the constellation of Ursa Minor, near the North Pole, by which sailors in ancient times steered. Milton, in his Comus, calls it the Tyrian Cynosure. THE BEAUTIES IN NATURE. IN JUNE. AWHILE I bask'd amid the hay; Suck'd from the clover-flowers the honey: trac'd Threading their beautiful labyrinth, or the bee Eagerly rifling the fallen flowers, to catch And flies innumerous wheeling round and round The lark with quivering wing mounting aloft Till my strain'd eye had lost him, though even then His ceaseless song came down, mellow'd and fine, The swallow darting to and fro; the hawk, A JUNE DAY. WHO has not dream'd a world of bliss, Couch'd by his native brook's green maze, With comrade of his boyish days? Just as in joyous infancy. Who has not lov'd, at such an hour, |