Page:The Floral Fortune-teller.djvu/84

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
76
THE FLORAL

MORNING GLORY.



It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;
Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be,
Ere one can say, It lightens.

Shakspeare.



A violet in the youth of primy nature,
Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting,
The perfume and suppliance of a minute,
No more.

Shakspeare.