Many of the nations of the earth have chosen a flower for their emblem. The roses of England are well known in story. Ireland has chosen the lowly shamrock, which is found in every field; and its adoption is said to be as old as the introduction of Christianity into the island.
Dear is the thistle to the heart of the Scotchman; but faded for ever are the lilies of France.
The Carolinian rallies beneath the palmetto; and on the earliest coins of old Massachusetts we find a pine-tree,—emblematic, no doubt, of the source from which she drew her earliest wealth. If ever these United States should choose a symbol from the vegetable world, let that symbol be the magnolia!
THE TWOFOLD BEING.
The dew of youth on her pure brow lay;
Her smile was the dawn of Spring's softest day;
Spring's rosy light was on all her way.
She seem'd an oasis in desert lands;
We thank'd God for her with lifted hands,
Then turn'd again to the weary sands.
But Life came on with its withering glare,
And swept down all the sweet beauty there,
And left the fount dry and the branches bare.
When I look'd again on her alter'd face,
The glow had all vanish'd, and left no trace,—
Not a lingering gleam of her maiden grace.
Yet that form, as in earliest beauty fair,
Can my mind shape out, in this evening air:
Not a trait, not a shadow, is wanting there.
So now two beings for one I find;
One walks on earth, one lives in my mind;
Yet mystic relations these two still bind.
