DONIS. Flos Adonis. Class 13, Polyandria, Order: Polygynia. Adonis was killed, while hunting, by a boar. Venus, who, for his sake, had relinquished the joys of Cythera, shed tears for the fate of her favourite. They were not lost; the earth received them, and immediately produced a light, delicate plant, covered with flowers resembling drops of blood. Bright and transient flowers, too faithful emblems of the pleasures of life, ye were consecrated by Beauty herself to painful recollections!
PAINFUL RECOLLECTIONS.
Full twenty years have pass’d away, since thou, beloved one!
With darkening eye to heaven upraised, the last time bless’d thy son;
And meekly closing thy thin hands, with mine between them press’d,
Fled, with my name upon thy lips, to thine eternal rest.
With darkening eye to heaven upraised, the last time bless’d thy son;
And meekly closing thy thin hands, with mine between them press’d,
Fled, with my name upon thy lips, to thine eternal rest.
My first, my last, my only friend!—if aught the ransom’d know
Of the dark thoughts and sinful deeds that stain the world below,
How hath thy gentle spirit grieved, as but a mother’s can,
To see thy precepts to the boy, neglected by the man!
Of the dark thoughts and sinful deeds that stain the world below,
How hath thy gentle spirit grieved, as but a mother’s can,
To see thy precepts to the boy, neglected by the man!
But no; thou art beatified!—on yonder radiant shore,
The sins and sorrows of thy child can trouble thee no more;
And if, in thy refulgent home, thou thinkest of me now,
’T is with my childhood’s innocence yet beaming on my brow!
The sins and sorrows of thy child can trouble thee no more;
And if, in thy refulgent home, thou thinkest of me now,
’T is with my childhood’s innocence yet beaming on my brow!
So would I have thee see thy son, the wreck’d of passion’s storm,
With prematurely wrinkled brow, pale cheek, and stooping form,
To thy soul’s gaze, immortal one! would ever present be,
The same fair child of guileless heart, that gamboll’d at thy knee.
With prematurely wrinkled brow, pale cheek, and stooping form,
To thy soul’s gaze, immortal one! would ever present be,
The same fair child of guileless heart, that gamboll’d at thy knee.
The Knickerbocker