Say, shall not intellectual powers Forbid it, every nobler power THE MYRTLE. This evergreen, like many of Flora's favored children, has a classic origin. It was named from Myrsine, a Grecian priestess, who served in the temple of Venus. She was beloved by Minerva and Venus, and the latter changed her after death into a myrtle, which she commanded to remain green and odorous through the year. The goddess Discordia, at the marriage of Peleus and Thetis, threw amidst the company a golden apple, inscribed, Let the fairest take it.' Juno, Venus, and Minerva were the competitors; Venus, achieving the victory, was crowned by Cupid with a myrtle-wreath. LOVE IN ABSENCE. F. W. THOMAS. "T is said that absence conquers love! But, oh! believe it not; I've tried, alas, its power to prove, They knew me still the same. But when I ask my heart the sound, A THOUGHT OF THE ROSE. MRS. HEMANS. How much of memory dwells amidst thy bloom, Thou hast thy part in each, thou stateliest flower; Therefore with thy soft breath come floating by Deep thoughts of all things beautiful and brief. Not such thy spells o'er those that hailed thee first, Rose! for the banquet gathered and the bier! Rose! colored now by human hope or pain; Surely where death is not-nor change, nor fear, Yet may we meet thee, Joy's own flower, again. THE OAK OF GUERNICA. WORDSWORTH. The ancient oak of GUERNICA, Says Laborde, in his account of Biscay, is a most venerable monument. Ferdinand and Isabella, in the year 1476, after hearing mass in the Church of Santa Maria de la Antigua, repaired to this tree, under which they swore to the Biscayans to maintain their fueros (privileges). What other interest belongs to it in the minds of this people will appear from the following." Oak of Guernica! Tree of holier power Those lofty-minded Lawgivers shall meet, THE THREE FLOWERS. PERCIVAL. A tulip blossomed, one morning in May, By the side of a sanded alley; Its leaves were dressed in rich array, Like the clouds at the earliest dawn of day, And its spreading urn was flowing o'er, A sweet red rose, on its bending thorn, And the flowing effulgence of the early morn And the thrush in its covert filled my ears A lily, in mantle of purest snow, And the wave, in its calm and quiet flow, Like the drift on the windy mountain: |