. The floral kingdom : its history, sentiment and poetry : A dictionary of more than three hundred plants, with the genera and families to which they belong, and the language of each illustrated with appropriate gems to poetry . Flower language; Flowers in literature. « s> <^l ^ !Digttalt0 purpurea. Natural Order: Scrofhulariacece—Fig'wort Family. 'fl ITERALLY, the purple finger-flower, this plant is of easy- culture, and well adapted for the borders of walks and beds. The blossoms, which grow in a long spike, are many, and 3 thimble-shaped, with dots of a color differing frorii the flow
. The floral kingdom : its history, sentiment and poetry : A dictionary of more than three hundred plants, with the genera and families to which they belong, and the language of each illustrated with appropriate gems to poetry . Flower language; Flowers in literature. « s> <^l ^ !Digttalt0 purpurea. Natural Order: Scrofhulariacece—Fig'wort Family. 'fl ITERALLY, the purple finger-flower, this plant is of easy- culture, and well adapted for the borders of walks and beds. The blossoms, which grow in a long spike, are many, and 3 thimble-shaped, with dots of a color differing frorii the flower in the interior. The whole plant is a violent and dangerous poison when taken internally in any considerable quantity, producing delirium, convulsions and death. It becomes a valuable medicine in the hands of a skillful physician. It thrives best in par- tially shaded locations. There are a number of varieties, the flowers being white, purple, carmine, brown, and liHrijtm. 0 THIS poor brain! ten thousand shapes of furv Are whirling there, and reason is no more. —Fieldm^. TTE raves, his words are loose As heaps of sand, and scattering wide from sense; So high he 's mounted on his airy throne, That now the wind has got into his head. And turns his brains to phrenzy. —Dryden. H IS brain is wrecked- For ever in the pauses of his speech His lip doth work with inward mutterings, And his fixed eye is riveted fearfully On something that no other sight can spy. AM not mad; too well, too well I feel The diiferent plague of each calamity. T AM not mad; I would to heaven I were! For then 'tis like I should forget myself; O, if I could, what grief should I forget! —Shakespeare. —Shakespeare. 'T^HIS wretched brain gave way, And I became a wreck, at random driven. Without one glimpse of reason or of heaven. —Moore. TF a phrenzy do possess the brain. It so disturbs and blots the form of things. As fantasy proves altogether vain. And to the wit no true relation brings.
Size: 1430px × 1746px
Photo credit: © Central Historic Books / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, booksubjectflowers, bookyear1877
