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Godey's Lady's Book, Vol. XLII., May 1851   By:

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A Hindoo Belle, by J. E. P. , 322

A Spring Carol, by Mrs. A. A. Barnes , 326

Cottage Furniture, 329

Design for a Lady's Work Box, 364

Develour, by Professor Charles E. Blumenthal , 51, 102, 182, 257, 323, 377

Editors' Table, 65, 134, 201, 266, 330, 391

Editors' Book Table, 66, 135, 202, 267, 332, 392

Etruscan Lace Cuff, 328

Fashions, 70, 140, 205, 270, 336, 396

Flowers, by G. H. Cranmer , 284

Garden Decorations, 251, 282, 372

Good For Evil, by Angele de V. Hull , 252, 285

Home; or, the Cot and the Tree, by Robert Johnson , 295

Incidents in the Life of Audubon, by the author of "Tom Owens, the Bee Hunter," 306

Knitted Flowers, 61, 199, 263, 328, 386

Model Cottages, 4, 126, 283

Moral Courage, by Alice B. Neal , 316, 367

Publisher's Department, 269, 334, 394

Sabbath Lyrics, by W. Gilmore Simms , 26, 109, 174, 366

Sonnet, by Mrs. L. S. Goodman , 281

Sonnets, by William Alexander , 42, 75, 169, 215, 277, 390

Spring, by Fanny Fales , 292

Spring a Ballad, by Mary Spenser Pease , 278

Susan Clifton; or, the City and the Country, by Professor Alden , 29, 93, 170, 246, 302, 360

Taking Care of Number One, by T. S. Arthur , 320

The Judge; a Drama of American Life, by Mrs. Sarah J. Hale , 21, 88, 154, 237, 298

The Language of Flowers, by Jno. B. Duffey , 277

The Last of the Tie Wigs, by Jared Austin , 296

The Tiny Glove a May Day Story, by Blanche , 280

The Young Enthusiasts, by Frank I. Wilson , 309, 346

To A. E. B., or Her who Understands it, by Adaliza Cutter , 297

Undersleeves and Caps, 327

Various Useful Receipts, 69, 139, 205, 270, 335, 396

Women of the Revolution, by Mrs. E. F. Ellet , 293

Ye Come to me in Dreams, by Nilla , 279



May Day Morning. The Language of Flowers. Spring. "Now be Careful." Music, &c.



( See Plate. )

AS, wandering forth at rosy dawn, When sparkling dew drops deck the lawn, From glen and glade, and river side, We bring young flowers the morning's pride.

And, bound in wreaths, or posies sweet, With flowers our favored ones we greet; For flowers a silent language own, That makes our maiden wishes known.

A language that by love was wrought, And by fond love to mortals taught; A language, too, that lovers know, Where, watched by love, sweet flowers may blow.

A language richer, purer far Than all the tongue born dialects are; And, as the flowers, devoid of art, It is the language of the heart.

Thoughts that would perish all untold Live on the tongues that flowers enfold: Thus will the Tulip's crimson shell The love of stammering youth unveil.

And happy will that trembler be, If she, with cheek of modesty, Shall give his soft avowal room, And twine it with the Myrtle's bloom.

But, should her heart feel not his glow, The mottled Pink may answer "No;" Yet Friendship, in an Ivy wreath, A balm upon the wound will breathe... Continue reading book >>

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