Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1875-05-27
Flower Thoughts and Fancies.

Somebody says that flowers are the
'fugitive poetry of nature;" and to
wild flowers most emi,ently belongs
the remark. Our cultivated flowers
can not lie called "fugitive poetry !"
we do not find them scattered along the
roadsides, smiling to the brooks, nod
ding on hills to every breeze. Not
they! Taey are collected and placed
in onr houses and Conservatives, la
beled, and surrounded by the costly
accessories which belong to all volumes
of collected poetry
But with flowers it is different. We
come upon them, indeed, as upon
scraps of poetry tucked into the cor
ner of some newspaper of everyday
life, and in the one case, as in the 9TH
er, exclaim in sort of patronizing sur
prise "Why how pretty that is p
One can not, however, be very we'll
acquainted with the woodlands, with
out quickly losing any feeling of pat
ronage he may once have had. There
are so many dainty wild blossoms to
harmonic with any mood in which thoy
may be approached, beheld, or gath
cred. #h9@
We find all sorts of poetry speaking
from them; palest of blue hare bells
which suggest dainty poem, full of
tenderness without strong passion,
which, indeed, they, as well as people,
are better without. Then there are
violets, blue and white and yellow, like
little ballads, tales of unconscious her.
ones l-overthe-ground, Immediate
ly reminding one of scores of verses he
has seen in the neglected corner of
some county paper; with blue bits of
prettlness scattered here and there,
but SO small that one doesn't care for
the trouble of hunting them ous; and
besides, like those scraps of verse.
there is so much of it that it can be
had at any time.
But flowers, also, tell us other
things; they are vivid reminders Of
people we have known, of faces we
have seen, hearts we have learned to
love and trust.
Who can ever see valley-lily, with
out a feeling of tender greeting, or
(to go from the pretty to the absurd)
who can look at one Of those saucy
Jack-inthe-pulpits, peepipg up out of
It's Grafton as long as county minis
ter's, tell of it's relationship to the re.
gal calla :? Poor relations, truly?
How indignant the Gala would be
Then there are the lovely blossoms
OF the spring-beauty, at which one
feels as much surprise as at finding a
Perdita in sheperd' S cottage,
The flowers Of the mlllein are like
families In tenement house, pretty
enough individually, but collectively-
we'll, they'd be rather unpleasant
guests, to say the least of it.
Autumn flowers are like stories of
the topics. Their very names are sug-
gestive- golden rod, flaming -pixter,
trumpet-howers.
And water-lillies d. what shall we say
Of them? Lovely, fearful Undines.
gifted with souls through unavoidable
wretchedpess. And by the way, what
beautiful allegory that is, and alas
how true to life.
But if water-lillies have souls. wood
land vines certainly have no conscience.
Running along the ground, climbing
up trees, clinging to fences. making
use of anything, and everything, with
out so much as by your leave, and
to be stunned like parasitical friends,
which, like them, once given footing,
can not easily be removed
1t is quite pretty amusement to
trace in flowers resemblances to ones |
friends We have often heard people |
say that every human being is like
some animal. -(if so, some of them
are certainly only fossil remains, which,
by the way, has nothing to do with the
subject).
The resemblance of every one to
some flowers is quite as easily tracea-
BILE. Bright, insipid verbenas. queenly
lilies, royal japonicas. The readers of