head (Gustavus the Third) pronounced his solemn eulogy; a magnificent monument was erected to his memory in the gardens of the university of Upsal; and medals were struck by his countrymen, to commemorate the genius of the three kingdoms of nature. The little flower, raised to eminence by his name, became a part of his crest: the helmet which surmounts the arms of his family being adorned with a spray of Linnæa. One of those pupils who visited distant countries to add to the collections of Linnæus, sent from China a service of porcelain, manufactured purposely for him, having a representation of this plant as its only decoration. The Cardinal de Noailles erected a cenotaph in his garden to the memory of the naturalist, and planted the Linnæa by its side as its most appropriate ornament.

Papaver Rhaas. Red Poppy. Corn-Rose. Polyandria Monogynia.

Capsules smooth, urn-shaped. Stem hairy, many flowered. Leaves wing-cleft, jagged.

Stem cylindrical, branched, hairs expanding. Leaves hairy. Leafits strap-shaped, indented, serrated. globular but urn-shaped, and nearly as long. Summit with ten or twelve rays. full scarlet.

Withering.

Capsule not broad as it is Blossom bright,

THE ORIENTAL AND THE FIELD POPPY.

A FABLE.

HE who ne'er by fountain lone

Hath listen'd to some thrilling tone,

To which the bubbling stream gave birth,

Far sweeter than the sounds of earth,
And deem'd the Naiad of the spring

Had touch'd her harp's ethereal string,
Or, with one softly-utter'd word,
The clear and crystal waters stirr'd:
Oh! he who ne'er had dreams like these

Will scorn my simple fantasies;
And let him turn his ear away,
"Tis not for such I pour the lay.
I sing for him whose rovings wild
Such mystic strain hath oft beguil❜d.
Enthusiast wanderer! thou canst tell
The force of Fancy's magic spell,
When in the poet's loved retreat
She sheds abroad her influence sweet,

As wandering 'mid the wreathed bowers
He listens to the whispering flowers,
And gathers many a tender tale,
Breath'd on the south wind's balmy gale.
Lo! even now a voice he hears
From one who weeps ambrosial tears.
Hark! she laments the stern decree
That bore her o'er the eastern sea,
With flowers of lowlier birth to vie,
Beneath our cold and clouded sky.

"Oh! wherefore am I drooping here, Far distant from that happier sphere, Where all my race have bloom'd their day, Then sunk in odorous gales away? Theirs was the orient's golden clime, Where Flora revels in her prime; And flowers and fruits are richly strown, Such as these lands have never known: Flowers bright as though the genial dews That fed them had imbibed the hues That deck the radiant bow of heaven, And to their leaves its splendours given. Nor rainbow tints alone are theirs ; Nature another charm prepares: Ambrosial sweets her urn distils, And every nectar'd chalice fills. Oh! how unlike this land of gloom, Dark as the precincts of the tomb; Where, undeplored, I droop and pine, Far from the princes of my line, Doomed the cold soil and scentless air, With flowers of low degree to share. And hear, ye plants of noble birth! Amid these creatures of the earth, The meanest of the worthless train, That springs unbidden on the plain,