Hence the Horologe or Watch of Flora is formed from numerous plants, of which the following are those most common in this country.  Leontodon taraxacum, Dandelion, opens at 5—­6, closes at 8—­9.  Hieracium pilosella, mouse-ear hawkweed, opens at 8, closes at 2.  Sonchus laevis, smooth Sow-thistle, at 5 and at 11—­12.  Lactuca sativa, cultivated Lettice, at 7 and jo.  Tragopogon luteum, yellow Goatsbeard, at 3—­5 and at 9—­10.  Lapsana, nipplewort, at 5—­6 and at 10—­1.  Nymphaea alba, white water lily, at 7 and 5.  Papaver nudicaule, naked poppy, at 5 and at 7.  Hemerecallis fulva, tawny Day-lily, at 5 and at 7—­8.  Convolvulus, at 5—­6.  Malva, Mallow, at 9—­10, and at 1.  Arenarea purpurea, purple Sandwort, at 9—­10, and at 2—­3.  Anagallis, pimpernel, at 7—­8.  Portulaca hortensis, garden Purilain, at 9—­10, and at 11—­12.  Dianthus prolifer, proliferous Pink, at 8 and at 1.  Cichoreum, Succory, at 4—­5.  Hypochiaeris, at 6—­7, and at 4—­5.  Crepis at 4—­5, and at 10—­II.  Picris, at 4—­5, and at 12.  Calendula field, at 9, and at 3.  Calendula African, at 7, and at 3—­4.

As these observations were probably made in the botanic gardens at Upsal, they must require further attention to suit them to our climate.  See Stillingfleet Calendar of Flora.]

        Watch with nice eye the Earth’s diurnal way,
        Marking her solar and sidereal day,
        Her slow nutation, and her varying clime,
170 And trace with mimic art the march of Time;
        Round his light foot a magic chain they fling,
        And count the quick vibrations of his wing.—­
        First in its brazen cell reluctant roll’d
        Bends the dark spring in many a steely fold;
175 On spiral brass is stretch’d the wiry thong,
        Tooth urges tooth, and wheel drives wheel along;
        In diamond-eyes the polish’d axles flow,
        Smooth slides the hand, the ballance pants below. 
        Round the white circlet in relievo bold
180 A Serpent twines his scaly length in gold;
        And brightly pencil’d on the enamel’d sphere
        Live the fair trophies of the passing year. 
        —­Here Time’s huge fingers grasp his giant-mace,
        And dash proud Superstition from her base,
185 Rend her strong towers and gorgeous fanes, and shed
        The crumbling fragments round her guilty head. 
        There the gay Hours, whom wreaths of roses deck,
        Lead their young trains amid the cumberous wreck;
        And, slowly purpling o’er the mighty waste,
190 Plant the fair growths of Science and of Taste. 
        While each light Moment, as it dances by
        With feathery foot and pleasure-twinkling eye,
        Feeds from its baby-hand, with many a kiss,
        The callow nestlings of domestic Bliss.