Sous le tranquil abri du toit paternel, j'etois heureuse des
enfance avec des fleurs et des livres; dans l'etroite enciente d'une
prison, au milieu des fers imposes par la tyrannie la plus revoltante,
j'oublie l'injustice des hommes, leurs sottises, et mes maux, avec des
livres et des fleurs." These pleasures, however, are too simple to be
universally felt.
There is something delightful in the use which the eastern poets,
particularly the Persian, make of flowers in their poetry. Their
allusions are not casual, and in the way of metaphor and simile only;
they seem really to hold them in high admiration. I am not aware that
the flowers of Persia, except the rose, are more beautiful or more
various than those of other countries. Perhaps England, including her
gardens, green-houses, and fields, having introduced a vast variety from
every climate, may exhibit a list unrivalled, as a whole, in odour and
beauty. Yet flowers are not with us held in such high estimation as
among the Orientals, if we are to judge from their poets.
Bowers of roses and flowers are perpetually alluded to in the writings
of eastern poets.
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