NEMONE. Anemone. Class 13, Polyandria. Order: Polygynia. Anemone was a nymph beloved by Zephyr. Flora, being jealous, banished her from her court, and changed her into a flower, which always opens at the return of spring. Zephyr had abandoned this unfortunate beauty to the rude caresses of Boreas, who, unable to gain her love, agitates her until her blossoms are half open, and then causes her immediately to fade. An anemone, with this motto, “Brevis est usus,”—*“Her reign is short,” admirably expresses the rapid decline of beauty.
FORSAKEN.
She will not speak the anguish of her breast,
She cannot chide the one she loves to bless;
What though her bosom own no soothing rest?
She does not cease to pray for his distress:
Her heart is wasting in a slow decay,
And the disease of hope smiles o’er her prey.
She cannot chide the one she loves to bless;
What though her bosom own no soothing rest?
She does not cease to pray for his distress:
Her heart is wasting in a slow decay,
And the disease of hope smiles o’er her prey.
At times she wanders when the air is warm,
And gazes on the trysting-place so dear,
When love and innocence, in gentle form,
United like a dew-drop and a tear,
When happy thoughts went heavenward in sweet prayer;
And all was bliss when Waldron’s smile was there.
And gazes on the trysting-place so dear,
When love and innocence, in gentle form,
United like a dew-drop and a tear,
When happy thoughts went heavenward in sweet prayer;
And all was bliss when Waldron’s smile was there.
And then she turns her sicken’d heart away,
And bends her footsteps to her mother’s grave.
Thinking how soon she’ll mingle with her clay—
She knows there is no human arm to save.
And though she smiles at death—her thoughts of life,
And faithless Waldron, cause a tearful strife.
And bends her footsteps to her mother’s grave.
Thinking how soon she’ll mingle with her clay—
She knows there is no human arm to save.
And though she smiles at death—her thoughts of life,
And faithless Waldron, cause a tearful strife.
Dawes.