|Grocott & Ward, comps. Grocotts Familiar Quotations, 6th ed. 189-?.|
|Yet mournfully surviving all,|
A flower upon a ruins wall.
Mrs. Hemans.The Brigand Leader, Verse 5. Page 506.
|Within the infant rind of this small flower,|
Poison hath residence and medicine power:
For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part;
Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
Shakespeare.Romeo and Juliet, Act II. Scene 3. (Friar Laurence.)
|Gather ye rose-buds while ye may,|
Old time is still a-flying;
And this same flower which smiles to-day,
To-morrow will be dying.
Herrick.Hesperides to the Virgins, No. 93.
|Fair and fragile as a flower,|
Like one she passed away.
(From the inscription on the monument over the remains of Dr. Muspratts infant child in Smithdown Cemetery, supposed to have been the aspiration of its mother.Ed.)
|My love is like a summer flower,|
That witherd in the wintry hour,
Born but of vanity and pride,
And with these sunny visions died.
Scott.Lord of the Isles, Canto IV. Stanza 7.
|Wert thou all that I wish thee, great, glorious, and free,|
First flower of the earth, first gem of the sea,
I might hail thee with prouder, with happier brow,
But oh! could I love thee more deeply than now?
Tom Moore.Remember Thee, Vol. IV. Page 11.
|Each flower of the rock, and each gem of the billow.|
Tom Moore.The Fire Worshippers, Vol. VI. Page 321.
|Thou Pearl of the Ocean! Thou gem of the Earth!|
Montgomery.The Ocean, Vol. I.
|Ramble a-field to brooks and bowers,|
To pick up sentiments and flowers.
Churchill.The Ghost, Book III.
|I made a posie, while the day ran by:|
Here will I smell my remnant out, and tie
My life within this band.
But Time did beckon to the flowers, and they
By noon most cunningly did steal away,
And witherd in my hand.
Herbert.Life, Verse 1.
|The flowers are gone when the fruits appear to ripen.|
Pope.To Swift, 25th March, 1736.
|Farewell, dear flowers, sweetly your time ye spent,|
Fit, while ye lived, for smell or ornament,
And after death for cures.
Herbert.Life, Verse 3.
|Love lies bleeding.|
|Maidens call it love in idleness|
Fetch me that flower.
Shakespeare.Midsummer Nights Dream, Act II. Scene 2. (Oberon.) Wordsworth, Vol. I. Page 213.