Periwinkle.... Tender Recollections

In France, the Periwinkle has been adopted as the emblem of the pleasures of memory and sincere friendship, probably in allusion to Rousseau’s recollection of his friend, Madame de Warens, occasioned, after a lapse of thirty years, by the sight of this flower, which they together had admired. This plant is deeply rooted in the soil which it adorns. It throws out its shoots on all sides to clasp the earth, and covers it with flowers, which reflect the hue of heaven. Thus our first affections, warm, pure, and artless, seem to be of heavenly origin.

Though the rock of my last hope is shivered,
And its fragments are sunk in the wave,
Though I feel that my soul is delivered
To pain,—it shall not be its slave.
There is many a pang to pursue me:
They may crush, but they shall not contemn;
They may torture, but shall not subdue me,—
’Tis of thee that I think, not of them.

Byron.

’Tis sweet, and yet ’tis sad, that gentle power,
Which throws in winter’s lap the spring-tide flower:
I love to dream of days my childhood knew,
When, with the sister of my heart, time flew
On wings of innocence and hope! dear hours,
When joy sprang up about our path, like flowers!

Mrs. A. M. Wells.

The lesser Periwinkle’s bloom,
Like carpet of Damascus’ loom,
Pranks with bright blue the tissue wove
Of verdant foliage: and above
With milk-white flowers, whence soon shall swell
Red fruitage, to the taste and smell
Pleasant alike, the Strawberry weaves
Its coronets of three-fold leaves
In mazes through the sloping wood.

Mant.

Where captivates the sky-blue Periwinkle
Under the cottage eaves.

Hurdis.

Remember thee?
Yea, from the table of my memory
I’ll wipe away all trivial fond records,
All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past,
That youth and observation copied there;
And thy commandment all alone shall live
Within the book and volume of my brain,
Unmixed with baser matter.

Shakspeare.

Oh! only those
Whose souls have felt this one idolatry
Can tell how precious is the slightest thing
Affection gives and hallows! A dead flower
Will long be kept, remembrancer of looks
That made each leaf a treasure.

Miss Landon.