. Cyclopedia of practical floriculture. Floriculture; Flower language. m ^pOIUCCft Nil. Natural Order: CoyivolviilaceteâConvolvulus a well known cl ejected by some for its imber and general favorite, though commonness, or because it is found /^IIh*^ so fiequently in the humble walks of life. It however forms a \eiy grateful shade from the noonday sun, and is used Unoie than any other annual vine for that purpose. The flowers are various in color; the bud is curiously twisted, which, when expanded is of a beautiful trumpet-shape, the tints being far more delicate than any brush could l
. Cyclopedia of practical floriculture. Floriculture; Flower language. m ^pOIUCCft Nil. Natural Order: CoyivolviilaceteâConvolvulus a well known cl ejected by some for its imber and general favorite, though commonness, or because it is found /^IIh*^ so fiequently in the humble walks of life. It however forms a \eiy grateful shade from the noonday sun, and is used Unoie than any other annual vine for that purpose. The flowers are various in color; the bud is curiously twisted, which, when expanded is of a beautiful trumpet-shape, the tints being far more delicate than any brush could lay. In the Southern States ^ it grows wild, adorning the hedges and bywajs with its blossoms, id supplying the humming-bird and bee with their morning repasts. ^jpsi^* lyiY heart is like the sleeping lake, "^ Which takes the hue of cloud and sky, And only feels its surface break When birds of passage wander by. TTTITHOUT, the happy birds are singing * Their last song in the gathering gloom; And languorous airs soft scents are bringing From musky buds and bloom. âGepf^f Cooper. H' ERE let us couch in fern, And gaze adown the forest's dim arcade. Where little patches of bright sunlight burn. Companioned of deep shade. 'yHE cricket on its bank is dumb; *â The very flies forget to hum; And, save the wagon rocking round. The landscape sleeps without a sound. TTERE stretched, the pleasant turf I pre; In luxury of idleness; Sun-streaks, and glancing wings, and sky Spotted with cloud-shapes, charm my eye: While murmuring grass and waving trees. -John Clare. Their leaf-harps sounding to the breeze. And water-tones that tinkle near. Blend their sweet music to my ear; And by the changing shades alone The passage of the hours is known. Alfr. B. Stre. Please note that these images are extracted from scanned page images that may have been digitally enhanced for readability - coloration and appearance of these illustrations may not perfectly resemble the original Turner, Cordel
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License: Licensed
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecad, booksubjectfloriculture, bookyear1884
