{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_65677/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_65677","id":"gutenberg_65677","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/65677","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry","Fables","Flowers -- Poetry"],"text":"Transcriber\u2019s Notes:\n\n Underscores \u201c_\u201d before and after a word or phrase indicate _italics_\n in the original text.\n Small capitals have been converted to SOLID capitals.\n Old or antiquated spellings have been preserved.\n Typographical and punctuation errors have been silently corrected.\n\n\n\n\n FABLES\n OF\n FLOWERS,\n FOR\n THE FEMALE SEX.\n WITH\n ZEPHYRUS AND FLORA,\n A VISION.\n\n WRITTEN FOR THE AMUSEMENT OF\n HER HIGHNESS THE PRINCESS ROYAL\n\n BY THE AUTHOR OF THE CHOICE EMBLEMS, &C. &C.\n\n NATURE here\n Wantons as in her prime, and plays at will\n Her virgin fancies.\n MILTON.\n\n LONDON:\n PRINTED FOR GEORGE RILEY, BOOKSELLER,\n IN CURZON-STREET, MAY-FAIR.\n\n AND SOLD BY\n JOHN WILKIE, ST. PAUL\u2019S-CHURCH-YARD.\n MDCCLXXIII.\n\n\n\n\n TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE\n LADY CHARLOTTE FINCH.\n\n THESE NEW FABLES\n WRITTEN FOR THE AMUSEMENT\n OF\n HER HIGHNESS,\n\n CHARLOTTE,\n PRINCESS ROYAL OF ENGLAND.\n\n ARE MOST HUMBLY DEDICATED BY\n HER LADYSHIP\u2019S\n MOST HUMBLE\n AND OBEDIENT SERVANT,\n\n THE AUTHOR.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nWhen I survey the divine simplicity and blooming attractions, that are\ndisplayed amongst the variegated tribes of the vegetable creation, I\ncease to wonder, that _Queens forego, for a while, the compliments of\na nation, or withdraw from the glitter of a_ COURT, _to be attended\nwith the more splendid_ EQUIPAGE _of a_ BED _of_ FLOWERS; where nothing\nseems wanting but the power of _speech_, to make them become the most\npleasing Monitors.\n\nHow far the Author of the following Fables, written for the amusement\nof an exalted Personage, may have succeeded, in descriptive fancy, as\na poet: it is hoped, that, the moral and refined admonitions which may\nbe found to breathe, from the fragrant bosom of a silver-robed Lily, or\na blooming Jonquil, will throw a veil over any poetical inaccuracies;\n_for who can paint like Nature?_\n\nAs to the novelty of the plan, I cannot but hold myself, in a great\nmeasure, indebted to an ingenious Lady[1], well known in the literary\nworld. And can only say, that I have found both health and recreation\nin the completion of it; by sharing some of the sweetest hours of\ncontemplation, among the lovely subjects of the following pages.\n\n THE AUTHOR.\n\n[1] The author of The Vizlis: or Enchanted Labyrinth; an Oriental\nTale, 3 Vols.\u2014Wherein describes with great taste and fancy, the\ndifferent passions that are subject to misguide the warm and expanded\nimagination, of Youth by the Flowers they make choice of in the\nLabyrinth.\n\n\n\n\nTABLE OF CONTENTS.\n\n\n Page.\n\n ZEPHYRUS and FLORA 1\n\n FABLE I.\n The Hollyhock and Lily of the Vale 24\n\n II.\n The Aloe in Blossom 31\n\n III.\n The Rose and Hornet 37\n\n IV.\n The Sensitive Plant 42\n\n V.\n The Hawthorn and the Primrose 47\n\n VI.\n The White Rose and the Red 53\n\n VII.\n The Crocus 59\n\n VIII.\n The Anemone and the Passion Flower 64\n\n IX.\n The Lily and Narcissus 69\n\n X.\n The Ivy and Sweet Briar 73\n\n XI.\n The Violet Transplanted 77\n\n XII.\n The Tulip and the Amaranth 81\n\n XIII.\n The Honey Succkle and Youth 87\n\n XIV.\n Belinda and the Blue-Bell 92\n\n XV.\n The Larkspur and the Myrtle 97\n\n XVI.\n The Poppy and the Sun-Flower 102\n\n XVII.\n The Iris and the Rose 109\n\n XVIII.\n The Nasturtium and the Wall Flower 113\n\n XIX.\n The Traveller and Lapland Rose 119\n\n XX.\n The Deadly Night Shade 124\n\n XXI.\n The Crown Imperial and Hearts Ease 129\n\n XXII.\n The Water Lily 133\n\n XXIII.\n The Funeral Flowers and the Lover 137\n\n XXIV.\n The Field and Garden Daisy 142\n\n XXV.\n The Pinks and Arbutus 147\n\n XXVI.\n The Cockscomb and Sweet William 153\n\n XXVII.\n The Jasmine and Hemlock 157\n\n XXVIII.\n The Carnation and Southernwood 161\n\n XXIX.\n The Rosemary and Field Flower 165\n\n XXX.\n The Judgment of the Flowers 169\n\n\n\n\nZEPHYRUS AND FLORA: A VISION.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nI.\n\n As late I wander\u2019d o\u2019er the flow\u2019ry plain,\n Where Cambrian Cluyd pours his silver tide,\n Amidst the pleasures of fair Plenty\u2019s reign,\n And blushing flow\u2019rs and fruits on ev\u2019ry side:\n\n\nII.\n\n Soft sigh\u2019d the west winds, murm\u2019ring o\u2019er the dale,\n Whose ev\u2019ry charm rose fresher from the breeze;\n The lofty hills more boldly kiss\u2019d the gale,\n Which skimm\u2019d their tops, and shook the wavy trees.\n\n\nIII.\n\n The sun descending, shot his golden beams\n Askance, with many a cloud his ev\u2019ning throne\n Adorn\u2019d; while mountains, woods, and lucent streams,\n With the last blushes of his radiance shone.\n\n\nIV.\n\n Far stretching hence, Cambria\u2019s rough heights I view,\n Where Liberty long since forlorn retir\u2019d,\n Left fairer climes, and skies of brighter hue,\n And, but at last, triumphantly expir\u2019d:\n\n\nV.\n\n And wide around me wound the fertile vale[2],\n Fit theme and subject of the poet\u2019s song;\n Whose num\u2019rous beauties load the passing gale,\n Whose breath repeats them, as it glides along.\n\n[2] The Vale of Cluyd.\n\n\nVI.\n\n Bright Ph\u0153bus sunk, dim twilight now succeeds,\n Still gleaming dubious with uncertain ray,\n While tremblingly among the vocal reeds\n The ev\u2019ning breezes still more faintly play.\n\n\nVII.\n\n Amid this beauteous, soft, and flow\u2019ry scene,\n On a high bank, all listless, I reclin\u2019d;\n Whose shelving sides were crown\u2019d with lively green,\n By tufted trees and bord\u2019ring flow\u2019rs confin\u2019d.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n Here, while the landscape faded on my sight,\n Wild Fancy\u2019s eye still brighter scenes supply\u2019d;\n I view\u2019d not the last track of parting light,\n Nor mark\u2019d the fanning breezes as they dy\u2019d.\n\n\nIX.\n\n At length, Imagination, roving maid,\n Though gentle sleep had fetter\u2019d all my pow\u2019rs\n In golden chains, my busy soul convey\u2019d\n To other landscapes and immortal bow\u2019rs.\n\n\nX.\n\n Methought I stood amidst a garden fair,\n Whose bounds no sight of mortal eye could trace,\n Situate mid-way, betwixt earth, seas, and air,\n Unmark\u2019d by Time, uncircumscrib\u2019d by Space.\n\n\nXI.\n\n Not half so sweet was that delightsome dale,\n Which to my waking view appear\u2019d so bright;\n For _here_ did never-ceasing suns prevail,\n With mildest sweetness temp\u2019ring heav\u2019nly light.\n\n\nXII.\n\n Spring breath\u2019d eternal glories o\u2019er the land:\n And gentlest winds, o\u2019er fragrant lawns that blow,\n Nurs\u2019d beauteous buds unset by mortal hand,\n And op\u2019ning flow\u2019rs that without planting grow.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n Serene the heav\u2019ns, save where a cloudy shrine,\n Big with c\u0153lestial plenty, sail\u2019d on high,\n Show\u2019r\u2019d Spring\u2019s own roses from her seat divine,\n And drew a purple radiance o\u2019er the sky.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n Meanwhile, soft music echoing from each grove,\n Tun\u2019d to enchanting notes most soft and clear,\n That breath\u2019d the soul of harmony and love,\n Thrill\u2019d the rapt breast, and charm\u2019d the list\u2019ning ear.\n\n\nXV.\n\n And still the while, with voices loud and sweet,\n The warbling birds in dulcet concert join\u2019d,\n The waters murm\u2019ring flow with cadence meet,\n \u201cLow answer\u2019d by the gently whisp\u2019ring wind.\u201d\n\n\nXVI.\n\n These themes of wonder silent I survey\u2019d,\n Attentive hanging on each dying sound;\n Pleas\u2019d with the glories which I saw display\u2019d,\n And scenes of joy and pleasure op\u2019ning round.\n\n\nXVII.\n\n Yet still methought a certain want appear\u2019d,\n Of some to own this spot, so heav\u2019nly fair,\n Else were each charming flow\u2019ret vainly rear\u2019d,\n \u201cTo bloom unnotic\u2019d to the desart air:\u201d\n\n\nXVIII.\n\n Else, were in vain these soft melodious strains,\n Which the whole soul of harmony inspir\u2019d,\n Pour\u2019d to the wild woods and the lonely plains,\n Though worthiest still by all to be admir\u2019d.\n\n\nXIX.\n\n Such were creation\u2019s first imperfect hours,\n When the gay heav\u2019ns in early beauty shone,\n And earth, bedeck\u2019d with beasts, birds, plants, and flow\u2019rs,\n Spread all her bosom to the genial sun;\n\n\nXX.\n\n Unfinish\u2019d still the mighty work appear\u2019d,\n Till Man, the lord of all, was bid to rise;\n With open brow his face divine who rear\u2019d,\n And sought with upright look his native skies.\n\n\nXXI.\n\n Thus as I paus\u2019d, still louder swell\u2019d the notes,\n From ev\u2019ry bush, and brake, and echoing hill;\n While choirs c\u0153lestial seem\u2019d to tune their throats,\n And, with glad voice the chearful chorus fill.\n\n\nXXII.\n\n Then, by some magic pow\u2019r swift snatch\u2019d away,\n Ev\u2019n to the midst of that delightful land,\n I view\u2019d at once all clad in bright array,\n A thousand Genii of the gardens stand.\n\n\nXXIII.\n\n But far above all these a seat was plac\u2019d,\n Dress\u2019d with each flow\u2019r that ev\u2019ry season knows,\n Whose vary\u2019d tints, in gem-like order, grac\u2019d\n The rural theatre which gradual rose.\n\n\nXXIV.\n\n For lo! the Genius of each blooming flow\u2019r\n Brought his own fav\u2019rite with peculiar care,\n To deck the arch of this inchanted bow\u2019r,\n And, bowing at the throne, he plac\u2019d it there.\n\n\nXXV.\n\n A sight more beauteous ne\u2019er did eye behold,\n Than these bright tribes that glitter\u2019d on the day;\n And, rich in purple dyes and flaming gold,\n Did their bright bosoms to the sun display.\n\n\nXXVI.\n\n Such was the throne;\u2014but oh! what pen can trace\n The heav\u2019nly beauties of the matchless Two,\n Who, glowing with each bright c\u0153lestial grace,\n Sat there aloft, conspicuous to the view!\n\n\nXXVII.\n\n The first, a youth of sweet and gentle mien,\n With many a wreath and knotted garland crown\u2019d;\n Whose beauteous visage glow\u2019d with charms serene,\n And on whose shoulders purple wings were bound:\n\n\nXXVIII.\n\n These when he spreads, reviving Nature pours\n Her copious treasures of immortal bloom;\n Whilst through vast realms he scatters vernal stores,\n And from his downy pinions shakes perfume.\n\n\nXXIX.\n\n His name was ZEPHYRUS; and next him sat\n The beauteous goddess of the blooming year,\n The constant partner of his rural state,\n To heav\u2019n and earth, to gods and mortals dear;\n\n\nXXX.\n\n FLORA, bright pow\u2019r, who sheds a thousand sweets\n O\u2019er thousand lands, what time her gifts appear,\n What time her consort with his kisses greets\n Her coral lips, and wakes the rising year.\n\n\nXXXI.\n\n Her beauteous face was deck\u2019d with youthful pride,\n Her graceful form in flamy robes was dress\u2019d;\n And ev\u2019ry charm wild Nature could provide,\n Adorn\u2019d her head, and beam\u2019d upon her breast.\n\n\nXXXII.\n\n Beside the throne, rang\u2019d in fair order, stood\n The various Seasons of the rolling year;\n By all their train of months, weeks, days, pursu\u2019d:\n And all their various symbols flourish\u2019d here.\n\n\nXXXIII.\n\n First came the SPRING, led by the rosy Hours,\n With all the Loves and Graces in her train;\n Deck\u2019d with her wreath of never-fading flow\u2019rs,\n Diffusing odours o\u2019er the smiling plain.\n\n\nXXXIV.\n\n Next SUMMER came; his cheeks with ardour fir\u2019d,\n With his own blushing fruits and harvests crown\u2019d;\n Before whose face the infant Spring retir\u2019d,\n And with her roses strew\u2019d the russet ground.\n\n\nXXXV.\n\n Stain\u2019d with the grape\u2019s press\u2019d juice, with steadier pace,\n Still looking backward on preceding time,\n Ripe AUTUMN next succeeded in his place;\n Scatt\u2019ring rich fruits, the growth of ev\u2019ry clime.\n\n\nXXXVI.\n\n Last WINTER comes, with heavy step and flow,\n A hoary captive bound in icy chains;\n With haggard eyes, and mantle dipp\u2019d in snow,\n Who still of cold in Spring\u2019s own realms complains.\n\n\nXXXVII.\n\n Not one of these, but from their various store\n Some off\u2019ring meet to lovely Flora pay;\n Not one of these, but with that off\u2019ring more,\n And her soft reign most willingly obey.\n\n\nXXXVIII.\n\n Ev\u2019n WINTER\u2019S self, with look averted, throws,\n His thin-strewn flow\u2019rets on the goddess\u2019 shrine;\n Ev\u2019n _his_ cold bosom for a moment glows,\n When he beholds her radiant form divine.\n\n\nXXXIX.\n\n But now the Genii of each plant and flow\u2019r,\n Rang\u2019d in fair order, wait her high commands;\n And each, approaching her delicious bow\u2019r,\n In expectation of her verdict stands.\n\n\nXL.\n\n For many of the _garden\u2019s_ painted race,\n And some that with their colours deck the _field_,\n Rivals in wealth, in beauty, and in grace,\n Had wag\u2019d high wars, unknowing how to yield.\n\n\nXLI.\n\n All claim\u2019d preferment, and each one could boast\n Of some bright beauty or perfection dear,\n Which should induce mankind to prize _her_ most,\n And to preferment make her title clear.\n\n\nXLII.\n\n And some, of empty shew and titles vain;\n Alas! that Pride so many should deceive!\n Claim\u2019d o\u2019er their kindred plants and flow\u2019rs to reign:\n And of their birthright others would bereave.\n\n\nXLIII.\n\n The Crown Imperial, and the spurious Flow\u2019r\n Which boasts of royal arms and royal mien[3];\n The warlike Plant that claims immortal pow\u2019r[4],\n And that gay lady call\u2019d the Meadow\u2019s Queen.\n\n\nXLIV.\n\n All these, and more, that scorn\u2019d a subject state,\n Rose to the claim of high imperial sway:\n Forgetting\u2014to be _good_ was to be _great_\u2014\n They rose to rule, unpractis\u2019d to obey.\n\n\nXLV.\n\n Others again for _beauty\u2019s_ meed contend,\n Chief amidst whom appear\u2019d the Tulip race;\n A painted tribe, born only to contend\n For praise, where _all_ is giv\u2019n external grace.\n\n\nXLVI.\n\n Alc\u00e6a proud[5]; and lovely Venus\u2019 joy,\n That does from adverse winds its title claim[6];\n The once conceited, self-admiring Boy[7],\n Whose love prepost\u2019rous gave a flow\u2019r a name.\n\n[3] Iris, or Fleur de lis.\n\n[4] Larkspur.\n\n[5] The Hollyhock.\n\n[6] Anemone, or Wind Flower.\n\n[7] Narcissus.\n\n\nXLVII.\n\n The proud Carnation dipp\u2019d in brightest dyes,\n Who still with thirst of praise and glory burns;\n With her whose mirrour cheats deluded eyes[8],\n And she that still to her lov\u2019d Ph\u0153bus turns[9].\n\n\nXLVIII.\n\n There, with their num\u2019rous chiefs of diff\u2019rent hues,\n The painted Cock\u2019s Comb, and his lofty train,\n Their beauties vaunting, to the rest refuse\n To share the glories of their gaudy reign.\u2014\n\n\nXLIX.\n\n The judges sat, each sep\u2019rate claim was heard,\n While some for _rule_, and some for _praises_, sought;\n And some had been disgrac\u2019d, and some preferr\u2019d,\n As in the goddess\u2019 mind their various pleadings wrought\n\n\nL.\n\n But her lov\u2019d consort, gently whisp\u2019ring, said:\n \u201cWhat means my Queen, on these to cast her sight,\n Who have but pride or lust of sway display\u2019d,\n Nor brought their real worth or virtues to the light?\u201d\n\n[8] Bell Flower, Corn Violet, or Venus\u2019s Looking-Glass.\n\n[9] Clytie, or the Sun-Flower.\n\n\nLI.\n\n How many absent now, more fair than these,\n With greater fragrance in lone valleys blow?\n Or, if the garden\u2019s flow\u2019ry tribe more please,\n Where do the Rose and lovely Vi\u2019let glow?\n\n\nLII.\n\n The Lily where, and all that num\u2019rous host,\n Who claim true praise to innate virtue due;\n Or do they _merit least_ who _loudest boast_,\n And with false glare impose upon the view?\n\n\nLIII.\n\n For sure, of all who feel my genial gale,\n Or to the sun their fragrant breasts unfold,\n The best and sweetest that on earth prevail,\n Yet do I not in this fair court behold.\n\n\nLIV.\n\n He said; and FLORA, rising from her throne,\n Bade present search for ev\u2019ry one be made:\n Who, though their off\u2019rings on her altar shone,\n Their modest haste had from the court convey\u2019d.\n\n\nLV.\n\n Strait they return\u2019d:\u2014The lovely blushing Rose,\n The Lily ever chaste and ever fair,\n The Vi\u2019let sweet with purple tints that glows,\n And Myrtle green, that scents the ambient air:\n\n\nLVI.\n\n With many more, grateful to sight and smell,\n By bounteous heav\u2019n with matchless charms endu\u2019d;\n That in the fragrant meads or gardens dwell,\n Or which wild wastes from human eyes seclude.\n\n\nLVII.\n\n These by their Genii now in modest guise,\n Excus\u2019d from pleading \u2019midst the mingled throng.\n Claim\u2019d but the tribute all allow\u2019d their prize,\n Nor sought their own just praises to prolong.\n\n\nLVIII.\n\n Yet, these once seen, abash\u2019d their rivals stand;\n And would have fled, but FLORA this deny\u2019d;\n Who, rising graceful, with her out-stretch\u2019d hand,\n Thus briefly to th\u2019 assembled pow\u2019rs apply\u2019d:\n\n\nLIX.\n\n \u201cGenii of gardens, meads, and sylvan scenes,\n Attendant still in FLORA\u2019S vernal train,\n Say what this ardent, fond contention means,\n Why strive you thus for pow\u2019r, and strive in vain?\n\n\nLX.\n\n Are you not all beneath our sceptre blest;\n Say, do not all confess our gentle sway?\n Then seek not one to triumph o\u2019er the rest,\n But each in peaceful order still obey.\n\n\nLXI.\n\n So _all_ the glories of my reign shall share,\n So _all_ be still in poets songs renown\u2019d,\n So shall my ZEPHYR still with gentlest air,\n Wave o\u2019er your beds, with bloom eternal crown\u2019d.\n\n\nLXII.\n\n And _you_, who not for pow\u2019r, but beauty\u2019s charms,\n For gaudy tints, still fiercely would contend;\n What envious fire such gentle bosoms warms?\n And where, alas! must the mad contest end?\n\n\nLXIII.\n\n Each has her charms, and each peculiar worth,\n To all in various portions duly giv\u2019n,\n By secret Nature working at its birth,\n The lavish bounty of indulgent Heav\u2019n.\n\n\nLXIV.\n\n Each has her charms:\u2014but view the blushing Rose,\n Behold the beauties of the Lily fair;\n Few boast of equal excellence to those,\n Yet with their modest merit none compare.\n\n\nLXV.\n\n These, therefore, we prefer; and though no Queen\n Besides Ourselves we will to hold the reign;\n Yet, for their true desart conspicuous seen,\n We rank them foremost on the flow\u2019ry plain.\n\n\nLXVI.\n\n Hear, and obey; and if aught else abide,\n To raise dispute among your orders bright;\n Still by true merit let the cause be try\u2019d,\n And specious _shew_ yield to more solid _right_.\u201d\n\n\nLXVII.\n\n She spoke;\u2014the Seasons, and the winged Hours,\n Confirm\u2019d her voice; then breath\u2019d a rich perfume,\n Which ZEPHYR scatter\u2019d wide o\u2019er all the flow\u2019rs,\n And deck\u2019d their leaves with more than mortal bloom.\n\n\nLXVIII.\n\n Then, his lov\u2019d consort straining in his arms,\n With gentlest touch salutes her swelling breast;\n Who strait shone forth in more refulgent charms,\n As JUNO when by vernal JOVE caress\u2019d.\n\n\nLXIX.\n\n And sudden joining in a mazy dance,\n The airy phantoms of the scene appear\u2019d;\n Some to the sprightly timbrel did advance,\n While some their clear harmonious voices rear\u2019d.\n\n\nLXX.\n\n But One among the rest, who view\u2019d me stand\n Intent, and gazing on the prospect near,\n Came forth, and gently touch\u2019d my trembling hand,\n And bade me mark his words, and nothing fear:\n\n\nLXXI.\n\n \u201cAnd seest thou not (said he) these vary\u2019d flow\u2019rs,\n Contending still for beauty or for sway?\n Such are the contests which employ man\u2019s hours,\n In life\u2019s short, busy, transitory day.\n\n\nLXXII.\n\n For what is gaudy beauty\u2019s short-liv\u2019d bloom,\n The pomp of pow\u2019r, of riches, or of pride;\n Soon bury\u2019d in the undistinguish\u2019d tomb,\n Which all their boasted pomp at once must hide?\n\n\nLXXIII.\n\n VIRTUE alone survives, immortal maid!\n Her truly amaranthine flow\u2019r shall blow,\n When all the rest are wrapt in dusky shade,\n And laid in dark and dusty ruins low.\n\n\nLXXIV.\n\n Hear, and attend!\u2014improve the moral strain,\n So may\u2019st thou sail safe through life\u2019s dang\u2019rous sea;\n So from these scenes thou wisdom may\u2019st attain,\n And FLORA prove MINERVA\u2019S self to thee.\u201d\n\n\nLXXV.\n\n He ceas\u2019d; and well I mark\u2019d the prudent lore,\n And much revolv\u2019d his saying in my mind;\n Bent all the mystic moral to explore,\n By this romantic, splendid scene design\u2019d.\n\n\nLXXVI.\n\n But, the full concert swelling on my ear,\n The bands of Sleep dissolv\u2019d, away he flies;\n At once the train of phantoms disappear,\n And on my waking sight the vision dies.\n\n\nLXXVII.\n\n No longer now near FLORA\u2019S bow\u2019r I stood,\n But view\u2019d with op\u2019ning eyes the rising day;\n Then down the Valley fair my path pursu\u2019d,\n And homeward took my solitary way.\n\n\n\n\nFABLES OF FLOWERS.\n\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. I The Holly Hock & Lily of the Vale_]\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. II The Aloe in Blossom_]\n\n\n\n\nFABLE I.\n\n\nThe HOLLYHOCK and the LILY of the VALE.\n\n\nI.\n\n \u2019Twas early morn, Sol\u2019s radiant beams\n Illum\u2019d the landscape round.\n The dew-drops glitter\u2019d on the day,\n And gem-like deck\u2019d the ground.\n\n\nII.\n\n Within the garden\u2019s cultur\u2019d walks\n A Hollyhock there grew;\n And there the Lily of the Vale\n Kept humble distance due.\n\n\nIII.\n\n Elate with pride, the gaudy flow\u2019r\n Expands its swelling breast;\n And, joying in the vernal scene,\n The LILY thus address\u2019d:\n\n\nIV.\n\n \u201cWhat dost thou here, mean paltry thing,\n \u201cGo blow in yonder field;\n \u201cNor thus disgrace fair FLORA\u2019S tribes,\n \u201cThat heav\u2019nly beauties yield.\n\n\nV.\n\n \u201cGo, with thy faint and sickly hue;\n \u201cSome chearless vale adorn;\n \u201cBut here intrude not on our reign,\n \u201cNor drink the dew of morn.\n\n\nVI.\n\n \u201cWhilst I with heighten\u2019d colours glow,\n \u201cIn Summer\u2019s liv\u2019ry gay;\n \u201cImbibe the softest tints of light,\n \u201cAnd glitter on the day.\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cMe yonder golden sun shall warm,\n \u201cAt morn and noon-tide hour;\n \u201cAnd me his ev\u2019ning beams attend,\n \u201cLike his own fav\u2019rite flow\u2019r.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cNor yonder Rose, nor Bacchus\u2019 Plant,\n \u201cWhich twining near me grows,\n \u201cCan boast more excellence than me,\n \u201cOr brighter dyes disclose.\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cHence thou! nor this fair spot profane,\n \u201cWhere fairer flow\u2019rets blow;\n \u201cReturn again to shades obscure,\n \u201cAnd there neglected grow.\u201d\n\n\nX.\n\n The LILY heard, with decent grace,\n That scorn\u2019d the boaster\u2019s pride;\n Then from her lone, unenvy\u2019d bed\n She thus in brief reply\u2019d;\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cFrom vaunting loud what fame is gain\u2019d,\n \u201cTo raise the boaster\u2019s name;\n \u201cOr might not yonder blushing Rose\n \u201cExert a fairer claim?\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cAnd many a flow\u2019r that round thee blows,\n \u201cIn the bright garb of Spring;\n \u201cOr, rich in elegant perfumes,\n \u201cThat scent the Zephyr\u2019s wing.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cThe vine, with purple clusters deck\u2019d,\n \u201cShall soon rich sweets bestow;\n \u201cWhilst thou, a barren flow\u2019r at best,\n \u201cArt only made for show.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n \u201cFor ME;\u2014what Nature form\u2019d, I am;\n \u201cI envy not thy pride;\n \u201cNor seek to raise a greater boast,\n \u201cBy Providence deny\u2019d.\n\n\nXV.\n\n \u201cYet in some dark and dang\u2019rous hour,\n \u201cWhen tempests rude assail;\n \u201cEv\u2019n thou may\u2019st wish the humbler state\n \u201cOf LILY OF THE VALE.\u201d\n\n\nXVI.\n\n Safe from her humble spot she said,\n And view\u2019d the changing sky;\n From op\u2019ning clouds the thunders break,\n The livid lightnings fly.\n\n\nXVII.\n\n Full on the garden\u2019s lofty wall,\n The flow\u2019rs exalted place,\n The fires \u00e6thereal swiftly fall,\n And rend its solid base.\n\n\nXVIII.\n\n And now the boaster\u2019s trust and pride\n Assur\u2019d her overthrow;\n Her glories buried in the dust,\n By one destructive blow.\n\n\nXIX.\n\n The LILY view\u2019d the ruin\u2019d flow\u2019r,\n And strait this Moral drew;\n _Beauty and Pride are idly vain,_\n _But Praise is Merit\u2019s due_.\n\n\nXX.\n\n _Daughters of Albion, timely wise,_\n _Attend the moral tale;_\n _And imitate with prudent care_\n THE LILY OF THE VALE.\n\n\n\n\nFABLE II.\n\nThe ALOE in BLOSSOM.\n\n\nI.\n\n \u201cFrom warmer climates early borne,\n \u201cWhere beams the god of light;\n \u201cHow gaily blooms yon lofty plant,\n \u201cIn native colours bright!\n\n\nII.\n\n \u201cThe root, the plant, the leaf, the flow\u2019r,\n \u201cAlike our wonder raise;\n \u201cAnd all confess the fragrant stock,\n \u201cRenown\u2019d in ancient days.\n\n\nIII.\n\n \u201cSome say, but one revolving age\n \u201cBeholds thy beauties spread;\n \u201cAnd rear aloft to genial suns\n \u201cIts highly blooming head.\n\n\nIV.\n\n \u201cBut thou, like Merit, kindly nurs\u2019d,\n \u201cAn early spring wilt know;\n \u201cWhile, check\u2019d by rigid, frowning skies,\n \u201cThy gems forget to glow.\n\n\nV.\n\n \u201cEmblem of Genius rarely known,\n \u201cAnd still more rarely giv\u2019n;\n \u201cTo reap the good itself imparts,\n \u201cAnd share the gifts of Heav\u2019n.\n\n\nVI.\n\n \u201cSay, glorious stranger, rear\u2019d erewhile\n \u201cIn distant, sunny lands;\n \u201cCan either India more bestow,\n \u201cThan Albion\u2019s isle commands?\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cIn western and in southern climes\n \u201cToo long hast thou been plac\u2019d;\n \u201cAnd India\u2019s sands, and Afric\u2019s wilds,\n \u201cThy beauteous presence grac\u2019d.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cDeign then, O sov\u2019reign plant, thy balm,\n \u201cOn this our land bestow;\n \u201cAnd give thy flow\u2019rs in all their grace\n \u201cAnd lustre here to blow.\u201d\u2014\n\n\nIX.\n\n The Guardian Sylph, that watch\u2019d the flow\u2019r,\n Confess\u2019d before me stood;\n And shook his bright and sunny locks,\n And thus my suit withstood:\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cCease, cease, he cry\u2019d, such boons to ask,\n \u201cAs scarce deserve a name;\n \u201cWhile Albion, favour\u2019d from above,\n \u201cCan greater blessings claim.\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cStill, still, their gems and spicy store,\n \u201cLet either India boast;\n \u201cAnd Afric vaunt the precious sands,\n \u201cThat glitter on her coast.\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cNot these, nor all the hidden wealth,\n \u201cThat earth or sea possess;\n \u201cCan match those richer gifts of heav\u2019n,\n \u201cWhich fair Britannia bless.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cPeace, Freedom, Wealth from farthest shores,\n \u201cBy golden commerce brought;\n \u201cAll these are hers, and ev\u2019ry good,\n \u201cBy happiest nations sought.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n \u201cNor _this_ alone; here Genius blooms,\n \u201cA _Flow\u2019r_ excelling _mine_.\n \u201cNor asks a whole revolving age,\n \u201cIn glories to refine.\n\n\nXV.\n\n \u201cHere too the Fair, with beauty bright,\n \u201cThe hearts of heroes warm;\n \u201cThose _human blossoms_ genial blow,\n \u201cAnd put forth ev\u2019ry charm.\n\n\nXVI.\n\n \u201cCease then, _nor envy other climes_\n \u201c_Their beauties thinly strewn_;\n \u201c_But learn with decent pride to prize_\n \u201c_The blessings of your own_.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. III. The Rose & Hornet_]\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. IV. The Sensitive Plant_]\n\n\n\n\nFABLE III.\n\nThe ROSE and the HORNET.\n\n\nI.\n\n Deep in a lone sequester\u2019d vale,\n Where many\u2019 a streamlet flows;\n And nurs\u2019d by many\u2019 a gentle gale,\n Soft bloom\u2019d a damask Rose.\n\n\nII.\n\n The Summer\u2019s suns, the Zephyrs bland,\n All own\u2019d her peerless queen;\n The honey\u2019d Bee, Spring\u2019s sweetest child,\n Oft\u2019 sought her breast serene.\n\n\nIII.\n\n Her beauties op\u2019ning on the day,\n With ev\u2019ry grace were crown\u2019d;\n Imbib\u2019d the golden solar beam,\n And deck\u2019d the desart ground.\n\n\nIV.\n\n Daughter of Nature, still she blow\u2019d,\n Where human face ne\u2019er shone;\n And spread her blossoms to the view\n But of the Sun alone.\n\n\nV.\n\n Pride of the East, a brighter glow,\n Beyond our garden\u2019s bloom,\n Bade her with heighten\u2019d beauty blush,\n And scatter rich perfume.\n\n\nVI.\n\n Her rudely rushing through the air\n An angry HORNET \u2019spy\u2019d;\n Vow\u2019d to enjoy the heav\u2019nly flow\u2019r,\n In all her blooming pride.\n\n\nVII.\n\n Bold son of heat, with rudest haste,\n His course he strait address\u2019d;\n To rifle all her charms in spite,\n And riot on her breast.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n He search\u2019d each leaf, each blossom wounds\n With rude unhallow\u2019d rage;\n Yet nothing could his search explore,\n His passion to assuage.\n\n\nIX.\n\n The beauteous flow\u2019r, though wildly rent,\n No sweetness would afford;\n But hurt by many a vengeful thorn,\n His rashness he deplor\u2019d.\n\n\nX.\n\n At length, thus baffled and deceiv\u2019d,\n Enrag\u2019d, he silence broke;\n And now of ev\u2019ry hope bereft,\n He thus insulting spoke;\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cVain gaudy flow\u2019r, they term thy breast\n \u201cEngaging, bright, and fair;\n \u201cWho seek thy bosom, ne\u2019er shall find\n \u201cOr joy or sweetness there.\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cThe Bee indeed, thy fav\u2019rite, still\n \u201cSays, Honey springs from thee;\n \u201cYet nought but trouble, care, and pain,\n \u201cHast thou bestow\u2019d on me.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cThen boast no more thy beauteous form\n \u201cThat still excites desire;\n \u201cSince _Thorns_ alone thou canst bestow,\n \u201cTo quench a lover\u2019s fire.\u201d\n\n\nXIV.\n\n Then thus the Rose,\u2014\u201cIntruder vile!\n \u201cWho thus would\u2019st force employ;\n \u201cThough arm\u2019d with pow\u2019r; know \u2019tis not thine\n \u201cTo taste substantial joy.\n\n\nXV.\n\n \u201cThe Bee, who sips each sweet that glows\n \u201cIn lawn or shady bow\u2019r,\n \u201cTastes all the honey as he flies,\n \u201cBut never wounds the flow\u2019r.\n\n\nXVI.\n\n \u201cWhilst thou, both impious and unwise,\n \u201cOf all our tribes the scorn:\n \u201cFor ev\u2019ry violated sweet\n \u201cShalt always meet a thorn.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nFABLE IV. The SENSITIVE PLANT.\n\n\nI.\n\n Rare plant, or flow\u2019r, or nymph-like tree,\n With human sense endu\u2019d;\n Why dost thou shrink beneath the touch,\n And bear but to be _view\u2019d_?\n\n\nII.\n\n Say does some Hamadryad chuse\n In that green stem to live?\n And to her highly favour\u2019d shrine\n This strong sensation give?\n\n\nIII.\n\n Well for thy sake their ancient oaks\n The wood-nymphs might forsake;\n And in thy purer bosom with\n Their lov\u2019d abodes to make.\n\n\nIV.\n\n Yet why indignant from each hand\n Alike dost thou retire?\n Does ev\u2019ry touch, replete with ill,\n Alike thy hate inspire?\n\n\nV.\n\n Too cautious nymph! well might\u2019st thou deign\n To some thy breast unfold;\n Sure those would _worship_ at the _touch_,\n Who _love_ when they _behold_.\n\n\nVI.\n\n Shrunk in herself, with modest grace\n The Plant thus fair reply\u2019d,\n \u201cWhate\u2019er my source, my maiden state\n \u201cBut ill agrees with pride[10].\n\n[10] This flower is encompassed with thorns, and its root is said to\nhave a poisonous quality.\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cIn purity alone I joy;\n \u201cI seek no other fame,\n \u201cBut that which from chaste wishes grows,\n \u201cAnd suits a virgin\u2019s name.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cNymphs of the woods, the groves, and streams,\n \u201cToo oft have found the smart\n \u201cOf looser fires, which, once indulg\u2019d,\n \u201cWill rankle in the heart.\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cMe no rude touch shall e\u2019er profane;\n \u201cThat guard if once I leave,\n \u201cOf ev\u2019ry virtue well I know\n \u201cMankind would me bereave.\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cNor this alone, know, curious youth,\n \u201cA thorny mail I own;\n \u201cFoe to the rash unthinking hand\n \u201cThat violates my throne.\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cAnd ev\u2019n within this spotless breast\n \u201cDoes deadly venom spring;\n \u201cSo he that ravishes the sweets,\n \u201cMay meet the mortal sting.\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cGo then, and range from flow\u2019r to flow\u2019r,\n \u201cAmidst the gaudy train:\n \u201cBut sacred be my homely plant,\n \u201cTo bright-hair\u2019d Vesta\u2019s reign.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cShe ceas\u2019d; nor I the flow\u2019r profan\u2019d,\n \u201cTo chastity devote;\n \u201cBut on the sand with rustic pen,\n \u201cThis sacred moral wrote:\n\n\nXIV.\n\n _The Nymph who slights strict virtue\u2019s guard,_\n _Shall quickly meet a snare;_\n _And Pleasures, rais\u2019d on Virtue\u2019s bane,_\n _Are fatal, as they\u2019re fair._\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. V The Hawthorn & Primrose_]\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. VI The White Rose & Red_]\n\n\n\n\nFABLE V.\n\nThe HAWTHORN and the PRIMROSE.\n\n\nI.\n\n Beneath a wild and rustic shade,\n Impervious to the view;\n In the sweet-smiling month of May,\n A lovely Primrose grew.\n\n\nII.\n\n The gentle child of early Spring\n By bounteous FLORA crown\u2019d;\n With vernal beauties born to deck\n The unfrequented ground.\n\n\nIII.\n\n The brightest dye, the sweetest scent,\n Her yellow leaves could yield;\n Were spent upon the empty air,\n Nor e\u2019er adorn\u2019d the field.\n\n\nIV.\n\n For round her grew a bushy brake,\n With many\u2019 a thorn beset;\n And many\u2019 a weed obscene and foul\n Deform\u2019d the green retreat.\n\n\nV.\n\n But high above the rest advanc\u2019d\n A spreading Hawthorn rose;\n Whose lengthen\u2019d branches overhung\n The seat of her repose.\n\n\nVI.\n\n Her gem-like blossoms wide display\u2019d\n The darkling dell adorn;\n With grateful fragrance kiss the wind,\n And drink the dew of morn\u2019.\n\n\nVII.\n\n Her the lone Rose in mournful guise\n Full many a day had ey\u2019d;\n And thus at length one summer\u2019s eve\n She all impatient cry\u2019d.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cAh Thorn! the bane of all my hopes!\n \u201cAh Thorn! that wound\u2019st my peace!\n \u201cStill must I view thy branches spread,\n \u201cAnd still my woes increase:\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cI who long since had, happier far,\n \u201cBeen by some fair caress\u2019d;\n \u201cHad drunk the radiance of her eye,\n \u201cAnd panted on her breast?\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cWhat have I done, O wretch! that still\n \u201cThis evil treatment meets;\n \u201cOr hast thou aught in lieu to give\n \u201cTo those who lose my sweets?\u201d\n\n\nXI.\n\n She said:\u2014the Hawthorn thus reply\u2019d,\n \u201cFond pageant of an hour!\n \u201cArt _thou_ displeas\u2019d because _I_ bloom,\n \u201cThough shelter\u2019d by my pow\u2019r?\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cAnd know\u2019st thou not that but for _me_\n \u201cThy boasted bloom were vain;\n \u201cBy grazing herds trod under foot,\n \u201cAnd level\u2019d with the plain?\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201c_Thee_ I protect; _myself_ am known\n \u201cAmong the warlike race;\n \u201cWhom Nature arms with prompt defence\n \u201cOf most excelling grace.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n \u201cNor idly I these weapons wear,\n \u201cNor idle is my bloom;\n \u201cOne arms me for myself and thee;\n \u201cThe other sheds perfume.\n\n\nXV.\n\n \u201cAnd oft as this returning month\n \u201cAdds vigour to the year;\n \u201cCrown\u2019d with my gems in rustic dance\n \u201cThe nymphs and swains appear.\n\n\nXVI.\n\n \u201cMe the fleet hare, and tim\u2019rous fawn,\n \u201cSeek at their greatest need;\n \u201cThey rest secure beneath my shade,\n \u201cAnd on my bounty feed.\n\n\nXVII.\n\n \u201cBut most the plaintive Philomel,\n \u201cSweet warbler of the grove,\n \u201cJoys \u2019midst my branches to repose,\n \u201cAnd sing her hapless love.\n\n\nXVIII.\n\n \u201cAgainst my thorns her bosom plac\u2019d,\n \u201cShe strains her tuneful throat;\n \u201cAnd by my useful aid exalts\n \u201cEach sweetly trilling note.\n\n\nXIX.\n\n \u201cSacred to FLORA, of her train\n \u201cAlthough no flow\u2019r am I;\n \u201cAnd born to flourish many a moon,\n \u201cWhen thou shalt fade and die.\u201d\n\n\nXX.\n\n \u201cCease then, nor envy this my state,\n \u201cWhich must _thy own_ defend;\n \u201cThe thorns I bear shall save thy flow\u2019r,\n \u201cAnd prove thy surest friend.\u201d\n\n\nXXI.\n\n So spake the HAWTHORN, justly wise;\n The ROSE unansw\u2019ring heard:\n I caught the Moral, as it rose;\n And thus its sense appear\u2019d:\n\n\nXXII.\n\n _Life\u2019s humble vale is most secure;_\n _Cares on th\u2019 exalted wait:_\n _Yet those who well the weak protect_\n _Deserve_ UNENVY\u2019D STATE.\n\n\n\n\nFABLE VI.\n\nThe WHITE ROSE and the RED.\n\n\nI.\n\n Contending beauties, whom the doom\n Of Fate has still assign\u2019d\n Two fragrant rival flow\u2019rs to blow,\n And scent the western wind;\n\n\nII.\n\n The WHITE ROSE and the BLUSHING RED,\n Each one the garden\u2019s pride,\n With equal grace their leaves display\u2019d,\n And flourish\u2019d side by side.\n\n\nIII.\n\n The _first_ of spotless beauty vain\n That sudden caught the eye,\n The _last_ attentive praise to gain\n From her more sanguine dye.\n\n\nIV.\n\n Of sov\u2019reign virtue both well known,\n Both favour\u2019d from above:\n Still full of glory rose each flow\u2019r,\n Emblems of gentle Love.\n\n\nV.\n\n Yet \u2019twixt their stocks wild feuds subsist,\n To work them lasting woe;\n Whilst each of other still complain\u2019d,\n And strove her overthrow.\n\n\nVI.\n\n \u201cShame, said the RED, on that pale hue,\n \u201cWhich speaks the wearer\u2019s heart;\n \u201cThat, void of virtue as of grace,\n \u201cNo colour can impart.\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cUnlike the blushes that adorn\n \u201cMy flow\u2019r with colour meet,\n \u201cAURORA\u2019S, when she wakes the day,\n \u201cAppear not half so sweet.\u201d\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cNay! Shame on thee, the White reply\u2019d,\n \u201cWhose blush by _guilt_ was giv\u2019n:\n \u201cEv\u2019n by the blood of VENUS shed,\n \u201cOur patroness in Heav\u2019n[11].\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cTill then like me all Roses were,\n \u201cWhose ancient stock I claim;\n \u201cAnd, void of crime, still reprobate\n \u201cTheir colour with their name.\u201d\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cThis and much more she angry said:\n \u201cBut JOVE\u2019S immortal flow\u2019r[12]\n \u201cTheir ill-meant conversation broke,\n \u201cWith soft, persuasive pow\u2019r.\n\n[11] According to the old Fable, the Rose was at first always white,\ntill Venus, while she was pursuing Adonis, scratched herself with its\nthorns, and thereby stained it with her c\u0153lestial blood.\n\n[12] The Amaranth.\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cForbear, she cry\u2019d, in haughty guise,\n \u201cReproachful to contend:\n \u201cWhoe\u2019er the victrix, small her gain,\n \u201cThat thus can lose a friend.\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cAlly\u2019d by Nature in your kind,\n \u201cAnd diff\u2019ring but in Hue:\n \u201cYou both possess intrinsic worth,\n \u201cAnd outward beauty too.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cLong was the strife your[13] ancient state,\n \u201cIn this our isle pursu\u2019d;\n \u201cWhich many a year drench\u2019d either Rose,\n \u201cIn seas of kindred blood.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n \u201cOh! may no more such horrors rise,\n \u201cWithin our Garden\u2019s pale:\n \u201cBut all with emulation strive,\n \u201cThat concord may prevail!\n\n[13] Alluding to the Civil Wars of York and Lancaster, in which the\nWhite Rose and the Red were adopted as tokens or devices by their\ndifferent partisans.\n\n\nXV.\n\n \u201cMay civil feuds and ranc\u2019rous hate\n \u201cFrom hence be banish\u2019d far;\n \u201cFoul is that strife, where friends contest,\n \u201cAnd wage inhuman war.\n\n\nXVI.\n\n \u201cThen to this solemn truth give ear;\n \u201c_Where trifles thus are priz\u2019d,_\n \u201c_If two for victory contend;_\n \u201c_They both will be despis\u2019d_.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. VII. The Crocus_]\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. VIII. Anemone & Passion Flower_]\n\n\n\n\nFABLE VII.\n\nThe CROCUS.\n\n\nI.\n\n \u201cSay, beauteous flow\u2019r, whose burnish\u2019d leaves\n \u201cWith Spring\u2019s own livery glow:\n \u201cIn these bleak months, why dost thou chuse\n \u201cT\u2019 adorn a waste of snow?\n\n\nII.\n\n \u201cSay, dost thou grudge to summer-skies,\n \u201cThat bloom divinely bright:\n \u201cOr, are thy beauties clearer seen,\n \u201cThrough this thin Robe of White?\n\n\nIII.\n\n \u201cThe Snow-drop, thy companion fair,\n \u201cAs well thy foil might prove,\n \u201cAnd both might bloom in seasons sweet,\n \u201cAnd far from hence remove.\n\n\nIV.\n\n \u201cTo Summer\u2019s gayer months benign;\n \u201cShould\u2019st thou transfer thy reign,\n \u201cThy beauties still would brighter glow,\n \u201cAnd doubly grace the plain.\u2014\u201d\n\n\nV.\n\n I said:\u2014the lovely smiling flow\u2019r,\n The beauty of its race;\n And friendly to the sons of men,\n Reply\u2019d with decent grace:\n\n\nVI.\n\n \u201cNature\u2019s great book before thee set:\n \u201cShe blames thee not to scan\n \u201cHer works on every side display\u2019d,\n \u201cThe fit employ of man.\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cWhen Spring and Summer glad the earth,\n \u201cTen thousand beauties bloom;\n \u201cAnd various flow\u2019rs of brightest hue,\n \u201cDiffuse a rich perfume.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cAutumn of fruits her tribute brings,\n \u201cWith, yellow harvests crown\u2019d;\n \u201cThen laugh the hills and vales, and meads\n \u201cWith richest plenty crown\u2019d.\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cWinter, at length, with gloomy brow,\n \u201cComes on to close the year;\n \u201cWhen flow\u2019rs and fruits, and all their race,\n \u201cAlmost extinct appear.\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cYet still some few the gracious Pow\u2019rs\n \u201cPermit of these to bloom:\n \u201cNor heap alike all FLORA\u2019S race,\n \u201cIn one remorseless tomb.\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cAnd soon as to the wat\u2019ry Signs,\n \u201cThe Sun retreats again;\n \u201cThen she my flamy dyes awakes,\n \u201cAnd bids me deck the plain.\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cNor less my worth because \u2019midst snows,\n \u201cMy head I early rear;\n \u201cMy flow\u2019r still fresh and lively blooms,\n \u201cAs at the closing year.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cAnd know, when Autumn\u2019s Sun prevails,\n \u201cMy kindred flow\u2019rs arise;\n \u201cIn forms which heav\u2019nly pow\u2019rs might praise,\n \u201cAnd scent the ambient skies[14].\n\n\nXIV.\n\n \u201cThese ev\u2019ry dismal gloom dispel;\n \u201cWhich mis\u2019ry can impart,\n \u201cAnd joy and gladness still inspire,\n \u201cAnd harmonize the heart.\n\n\nXV.\n\n \u201cMeanwhile my earlier station here,\n \u201c(Health\u2019s harbinger) I keep,\n \u201cTo glad the sad and cloudy days;\n \u201cWhen Spring\u2019s soft Zephyrs sleep.\n\n[14] It is here to be noted that the autumnal Crocus is the Saffron\nFlower, so famous in Medicine.\n\n\nXVI.\n\n \u201cSo, in the Winter of his days,\n \u201cChear thou thy drooping friend;\n \u201cHis sorrows sooth, his griefs assuage,\n \u201cAnd prompt assistance lend.\n\n\nXVII.\n\n \u201cSo, when his fate and fortune lour,\n \u201cThy better aid impart;\n \u201cAnd with thy fortune\u2019s warmer ray,\n \u201cRevive his dying heart.\n\n\nXVIII.\n\n She said;\u2014the moral well became\n The sweet, propitious flow\u2019r;\n I mark\u2019d the lore with heedful mind,\n And own\u2019d fair FRIENDSHIP\u2019S pow\u2019r.\n\n\n\n\nFABLE VIII.\n\nThe ANEMONE and the PASSION FLOWER.\n\n\nI.\n\n \u201cBright flow\u2019r renown\u2019d in ancient times,\n \u201cAmidst the Cyprian shades;\n \u201cThe theme of wonder and of praise\n \u201cTo soft Sidonian maids.\n\n\nII.\n\n \u201cHail! Goddess-born! hail! thou produc\u2019d\n \u201cFrom the bright mingled flood\n \u201cOf VENUS\u2019 tears, as bards have sung,\n \u201cAnd her ADONIS\u2019 blood.\n\n\nIII.\n\n \u201cRich are thy blossoms in each hue\n \u201cThat can inchant the fight;\n \u201cAnd strike at once the ravish\u2019d eye\n \u201cWith wonder and delight.\n\n\nIV.\n\n \u201cHail! sacred Plant, born but to shew\n \u201cADONIS\u2019 yearly wound;\n \u201cBy gentle VENUS taught to bloom,\n \u201cWith heav\u2019nly beauties crown\u2019d.\u201d\n\n\nV.\n\n I said; when lo; an awful form\n Upon my orgies broke;\n And, like some bright c\u0153lestial pow\u2019r,\n In lofty accents spoke:\n\n\nVI.\n\n \u201cHence, thou profane; nor wound me thus\n \u201cWith thy unhallow\u2019d song;\n \u201cBut turn, and see, who blossoms here,\n \u201cTo whom thy strains belong.\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cThe Tyrian Boy, and VENUS\u2019 self;\n \u201cBefore my face shall fly;\n \u201cTheir beauty gone, their lustre lost,\n \u201cAnd all their charms shall die.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cI am the only flow\u2019r on earth,\n \u201cWith signs divine adorn\u2019d;\n \u201cBy me, of Heav\u2019n thus favour\u2019d high,\n \u201cAll Pagan Gods are scorn\u2019d.\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cThe purple ring, the bloody crown,\n \u201cThe nails, and guilty spear,\n \u201cThat slew the Lord of Life, behold\n \u201cIn my symbolic sphere.\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cDeep to Leth\u00e9an shades my root\n \u201cStill downward seems to tend;\n \u201cAs from the Cross\u2019s sacred base,\n \u201cTo Hell it would descend.\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cThen here thy mis-plac\u2019d rev\u2019rence shew,\n \u201cAnd bow before this shrine;\n \u201cWhere Angel Hosts themselves might pray,\n \u201cAnd own the Plant divine.\u201d\n\n\nXII.\n\n She said; ADONIS\u2019 flow\u2019ret bow\u2019d,\n As to superior pow\u2019r;\n My conscious heart was struck with dread;\n Before the wond\u2019rous flow\u2019r.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n But whilst intent my rev\u2019rence there\n With honour due to pay;\n The heav\u2019ns withdrew their useful light,\n And clos\u2019d the hours of day.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n I look\u2019d;\u2014no more those signs I saw,\n Which had my rev\u2019rence drawn:\n For ever shut the mirrour stood[15],\n Which thus had grac\u2019d the lawn.\n\n\nXV.\n\n A while I gaz\u2019d; at length I cry\u2019d,\n And art THOU mortal too?\n Are all THY sacred beauties fled,\n Or faded on the view?\n\n[15] This flower opens in the morning, and fades away in the evening,\nclosing up, and never opening again.\n\n\nXVI.\n\n _Vain then is all external awe,_\n _That images impart;_\n _And_ HE _that rules above is best_\n _Recorded in the_ HEART.\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. IX. The Lily & Narcissus_]\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. X. The Ivy & Sweet Briar_]\n\n\n\n\nFABLE IX.\n\nThe LILY and NARCISSUS.\n\n\nI.\n\n \u201cAh! hapless discontented flow\u2019r,\n \u201cThat yellow leaves adorn;\n \u201cWho once in life\u2019s gay vernal pride\n \u201cThe brightest nymphs could\u2019st scorn.\n\n\nII.\n\n \u201cHard was thy lot, and short thy date,\n \u201cBy form too fair undone;\n \u201cThou met\u2019st, alas! a timeless doom,\n \u201cEre half thy course was run.\n\n\nIII.\n\n \u201cUnhappy, self-admiring youth,\n \u201cA lesson thou shalt prove;\n \u201cT\u2019 avoid vain pride, that idle toy,\n \u201cAnd shun prepost\u2019rous love.\n\n\nIV.\n\n \u201cFair when a boy, now chang\u2019d, no more\n \u201cThose beauties can\u2019st thou boast;\n \u201cBut ever sadly may\u2019st repent\n \u201cIn vain those beauties lost.\n\n\nV.\n\n \u201cView yonder Lily\u2019s snowy pride,\n \u201cSprung from a seed divine;\n \u201cThen own how much her beauty bright,\n \u201cFond flow\u2019r, out-rivals thine!\u201d\n\n\nVI.\n\n With modest grace the Lily bow\u2019d\n The honours of her head;\n Then, with a sweet and modest grace,\n She thus instructive said:\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cWell may they droop, to whom their fate,\n \u201cWith form divinely fair,\n \u201cNo other, better boon has giv\u2019n\n \u201cTo make that beauty dear.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cFor not this glossy white I bear,\n \u201cDelight of human eyes;\n \u201cNor this so graceful form admir\u2019d,\n \u201cAre what I wish to prize.\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cFrom heav\u2019nly strain[16] I first arose,\n \u201cEmblem of chaste desires;\n \u201cAnd still that chastity retain,\n \u201cAnd check unhallow\u2019d fires.\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cNo empty self-admirer, I\n \u201cWould Folly\u2019s trophies raise;\n \u201cSuch _virtue_ then let all applaud,\n \u201cNot empty _beauty_ praise.\u201d\n\n[16] According to the Old Fable, Jupiter being willing to make Hercules\nimmortal, caused him to suck Juno while she was asleep; when the milk\ngushing out into a great quantity, some of it being spilt upon the\nsky, made the galaxy or milky way there, while the rest falling to the\nearth, gave birth to the White Lily.\n\n\nXI.\n\n She said; and strait the moral found\n Deep entrance in my breast;\n BEAUTY, _if not with_ VIRTUE _join\u2019d,_\n _Is but an idle jest_.\n\n\n\n\nFABLE X.\n\nThe IVY and SWEET BRIAR.\n\n\nI.\n\n \u201cHail, sacred IVY! hail,\u201d I said,\n \u201cDevote to BACCHUS\u2019 shrine;\n \u201cParent of wreaths, which deck the brows\n \u201cOf Gods and men divine.\n\n\nII.\n\n \u201cWhy call thee baleful, why despise\n \u201cThy ancient friendly race;\n \u201cWho clasp the Elm and sturdy Oak\n \u201cIn mystical embrace.\n\n\nIII.\n\n \u201cMINERVA\u2019S bird too deigns to dwell\n \u201cWhere thou art frequent seen;\n \u201cWho loves the calm and peaceful hour,\n \u201cAnd courts the deep serene.\n\n\nIV.\n\n \u201cThou, like the Vine, thy patron\u2019s joy,\n \u201cThy nurture wilt receive,\n \u201cAnd, twining close with friendly arms,\n \u201cWilt still supported live.\n\n\nV.\n\n \u201cWith PH\u0152BUS\u2019 laurel justly thou\n \u201cMay\u2019st hold divided claim;\n \u201cThe crown of glorious conquerors,\n \u201cAnd meed of deathless fame.\u201d\n\n\nVI.\n\n Thus whilst I spoke, the West wind rose,\n And scatter\u2019d rich perfume,\n From thickets, where sweet Eglantine\n Appear\u2019d in vernal bloom.\n\n\nVII.\n\n Thence a soft voice salutes my ear,\n Which thus complaining said;\n \u201cFond youth, to yonder noxious weed\n \u201cWhy all these honours paid?\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cThe Vine, \u2019tis true, will wed her Elm;\n \u201cBut view the dow\u2019r she brings!\n \u201cFrom yonder steril, forc\u2019d embrace\n \u201cAlas! what profit springs?\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cLike a false friend, too sure, she twines,\n \u201cIntent but to destroy;\n \u201cAs Jealousy, Love\u2019s offspring, still\n \u201cImpoisons all Love\u2019s joy.\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cHow poor that _virtue_, which retires\n \u201cTo solitude for aid!\n \u201c_How weak that wisdom_, which can shine\n \u201cAlone in night\u2019s dun shade!\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cAnd what, though gods and godlike men\n \u201cTheir victor brows have bound\n \u201cWith ivy\u2019d wreaths; is then the weed\n \u201cFor that alone renown\u2019d?\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cSay rather, in that purer age,\n \u201cWhen spotless honour reign\u2019d;\n \u201cThe victor, seeking only fame,\n \u201cA worthless crown obtain\u2019d.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cHence Ivy, Parsley, Oaken Boughs,\n \u201cTheir labour well repaid,\n \u201cWho not for gain, but glory\u2019s charms,\n \u201cTheir gen\u2019rous strength display\u2019d.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n \u201cBut thou, regardful of fair truth,\n \u201cAnd glory justly gain\u2019d;\n \u201cScorn the frail claim of upstarts base,\n \u201cBy such false means obtain\u2019d.\n\n\nXV.\n\n \u201c_Not borrow\u2019d names from high descent,_\n \u201c_Are real honour\u2019s meed;_\n \u201c_But they alone are_ GREAT, _whose fame_\n \u201c_Springs from_ THEIR OWN _fair deed_.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. XI. The Violet Transplanted_]\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. XII. The Tulip & Amaranth_]\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XI.\n\nThe VIOLET TRANSPLANTED.\n\n\nI.\n\n Where fragrant field-flow\u2019rs, gaily spread,\n Drink deep the morning dew;\n Close by a murm\u2019ring riv\u2019let\u2019s side\n An humble Vi\u2019let grew.\n\n\nII.\n\n To her the cultur\u2019d spot unknown,\n She bloom\u2019d in her retreat;\n And there in native fragrance bless\u2019d,\n Dispers\u2019d a world of sweet.\n\n\nIII.\n\n But yet not undisturb\u2019d her lot\n By Providence was cast;\n For oft\u2019 the herds went grazing forth\n And laid the meadow waste.\n\n\nIV.\n\n And oft\u2019 the trav\u2019ler\u2019s careless step\n Had laid her on the plain;\n Yet, by the living streamlet fed,\n She soon reviv\u2019d again.\n\n\nV.\n\n At length a curious Florist saw\n The sweetly blooming flow\u2019r;\n Call\u2019d her the field\u2019s and garden\u2019s pride,\n And plac\u2019d her in his bow\u2019r.\n\n\nVI.\n\n Here, with a thousand beauties rang\u2019d,\n Her elegance was lost;\n No more the cultur\u2019d spot she grac\u2019d;\n No more fair FLORA\u2019S boast.\n\n\nVII.\n\n Abandon\u2019d by his hand, who first\n Her charms with pleasure view\u2019d;\n She in her rise beheld her fate,\n And now neglected stood.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n She droop\u2019d, she pin\u2019d; the richer soil\n No nurture could afford;\n And oft\u2019 in vain her humbler lot\n The fading flow\u2019r deplor\u2019d.\n\n\nIX.\n\n The happier tribes that flourish\u2019d round\n Did each her state deride;\n Rejoicing that she paid so dear\n For what they deem\u2019d her pride.\n\n\nX.\n\n The Sun in Cancer flam\u2019d aloft\n Dry thirst her moisture drank;\n In vain she wish\u2019d the lucent flood,\n Or shade of osiers dank.\n\n\nXI.\n\n Oppress\u2019d at length she drooping fell,\n As ready to expire;\n Her bosom unresisting spread\n To Sol\u2019s consuming fire.\n\n\nXII.\n\n When lo! from heav\u2019n a gentle rain\n Cool\u2019d that too fervid ray;\n And soon reviv\u2019d the beauteous flow\u2019r,\n Which glow\u2019d upon the day.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n Her bloom restor\u2019d, renew\u2019d again;\n Her former lord attends;\n And midst the fairest of the fair\n She numbers now her friends.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n Yet, deeply struck with former ills,\n An humble flow\u2019r she blooms;\n No pride that lovely bosom knows,\n Whence ZEPHYR steals perfumes;\n\n\nXV.\n\n And to the Fair this useful truth\n She evermore reveals;\n _That she best knows her Beauty\u2019s force,_\n _Who modestly conceals_.\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XII.\n\nThe TULIP and the AMARANTH.\n\n\nI.\n\n Where various beauties mingled rise,\n All grateful to the view;\n With variegated beauties bright,\n A gaudy TULIP grew.\n\n\nII.\n\n Its leaves with flamy splendour shine,\n Mix\u2019d with more vivid green;\n And all the tints that deck heav\u2019n\u2019s bow\n Upon the flow\u2019r are seen.\n\n\nIII.\n\n The gently passing vernal air\n The beauteous plant caress\u2019d;\n And ZEPHYR ever pleas\u2019d reclin\u2019d\n Upon the charmer\u2019s breast.\n\n\nIV.\n\n While near at hand the GENTLE FLOW\u2019R,\n Call\u2019d AMARANTH, below\n The blooming guest of JOVE\u2019S own seats,\n Deign\u2019d in her prime to grow.\n\n\nV.\n\n Yet she with hairs uncouthly deck\u2019d,\n Unlike the Tulip race,\n Is not among the flowr\u2019ets found,\n Whose colours mark their grace.\n\n\nVI.\n\n This swell\u2019d her rival\u2019s empty pride,\n And, vain of empty shew;\n The Amaranth askance she ey\u2019d,\n And thus contemptuous spoke;\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cOf all the flow\u2019rs that deck the lawn,\n \u201cThe progeny of Spring;\n \u201cAnd all that of maturer birth\n \u201cThe later seasons bring:\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cOf all that for their fairer forms\n \u201cMay raise the justest claim;\n \u201cOf all that men for beauty prize,\n \u201cOr from perfection name:\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cBehold me, first and fairest known,\n \u201cStill lov\u2019d and valu\u2019d most;\n \u201cSoft daughter of the vernal hour,\n \u201cThe cultur\u2019d garden\u2019s boast.\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cWhy deign I then so long with _these_\n \u201cTo dwell without reserve;\n \u201cThat scarce, though vulgar eyes they charm,\n \u201cThe name of FLOW\u2019R deserve?\u201d\n\n\nXI.\n\n The blooming Amaranth, unmov\u2019d,\n Repress\u2019d her forward pride;\n The boaster\u2019s arrogance despis\u2019d,\n And wisely thus reply\u2019d;\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cYes, gaudy thing; thy various hues\n \u201cAre fine indeed and gay;\n \u201cGlaring thou glitter\u2019st on the sight,\n \u201cAnd flaunt\u2019st it to the day!\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cNo flow\u2019r around more bright can blow,\n \u201cIn beauty more mature!\n \u201cBut tell me, false, frail, giddy thing,\n \u201cHow long shall that endure?\n\n\nXIV.\n\n \u201cMe, not the least of FLORA\u2019S tribe,\n \u201cMe thou hast laugh\u2019d to scorn,\n \u201cAnd deem\u2019d my claim to beauty vain,\n \u201cAlthough c\u0153lestial born.\n\n\nXV.\n\n \u201cFor know, though scarce allow\u2019d by thee\n \u201cTo rank among the flow\u2019rs;\n \u201cFrom Heav\u2019n I draw my high descent,\n \u201cAnd bloom\u2019d in Eden\u2019s bow\u2019rs.\n\n\nXVI.\n\n \u201cAnd still eternal is my race,\n \u201cNo frail decay I know;\n \u201cBut, emblem of the first great Spring,\n \u201cFor ever bloom below.\n\n\nXVII.\n\n \u201cBut thou! the pageant of an hour,\n \u201cToo quickly shalt deplore\n \u201cThose beauties with\u2019ring all away,\n \u201cWhich fade, to charm no more.\n\n\nXVIII.\n\n \u201c_Thou_, wretch! no second Spring shalt see,\n \u201cTo renovate thy bloom;\n \u201cWhilst _I_ survive the stroke of fate,\n \u201cAnd triumph o\u2019er the tomb.\n\n\nXIX.\n\n \u201cCease then thy boast! in Wisdom\u2019s lore\n \u201cGo learn thyself to know;\n \u201cAnd by _her_ never-failing rule\n \u201cJudge all things here below.\n\n\nXX.\n\n \u201c_A fleeting joy, a fading bloom,_\n \u201c_May charm the ravish\u2019d sight;_\n \u201c_That only which is truly good,_\n \u201c_Is lasting, as \u2019tis bright._\u201d\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. XIII. The Youth & Honeysuckle_]\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. XIV. Belinda & the Blue-bell or Venus\u2019s Looking\nGlass_]\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XIII.\n\nTHE HONEYSUCKLE.\n\n\nI.\n\n At height of noon, a youth reclin\u2019d\n Beneath a woodbine bow\u2019r;\n Defended by whose thick\u2019ning shade,\n He pass\u2019d the sultry hour,\n\n\nII.\n\n But when mild breezes cool\u2019d the air,\n And length\u2019ning shadows rose;\n He scann\u2019d with philosophic mind\n The place of his repose.\n\n\nIII.\n\n High over-head the twining boughs,\n Where thousand blossoms glow,\n Of ev\u2019ry beam of light bereave\n The cool alcove below.\n\n\nIV.\n\n \u201cAh! (said the youth) ungrateful still!\n \u201cAnd dost thou thus repay\n \u201cThe bounties of that glorious God,\n \u201cWho wak\u2019d thee into day?\n\n\nV.\n\n \u201cWhile he in his meridian course\n \u201cIllumines wide the sky;\n \u201cDost thou, O wretch, resist his pow\u2019r,\n \u201cAnd all his beams defy?\n\n\nVI.\n\n \u201cUnlike to thee, ingrate, behold\n \u201cThe Sun-flow\u2019r drinks his light;\n \u201cLives, to his radiance ever true,\n \u201cAnd with him sinks to night.\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cBut like some faithless fav\u2019rite you,\n \u201cOr some more faithless fair;\n \u201cSpurn at the very pow\u2019r that grac\u2019d,\n \u201cAnd made you what you are.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cOh! useful lesson to be learn\u2019d,\n \u201cWith scanty hand to pour\n \u201cThose blessings, which, when once conferr\u2019d,\n \u201cShall ne\u2019er be thought on more!\u201d\n\n\nIX.\n\n Unmov\u2019d the beauteous Woodbine heard,\n Then, nodding from on high,\n Shook the green honours of her brow,\n As thus she made reply:\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cVain is the hypocritic plea\n \u201cThat gilds the selfish end;\n \u201cAnd base the poor unfeeling heart\n \u201cThat ill repays a friend.\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cFor _me_, not such my care ill-plac\u2019d;\u2014\n \u201cMy blessings unconfin\u2019d,\n \u201cI give each gentle breathing air,\n \u201cAnd scatter to the wind.\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cWhat if my leaves exclude that Pow\u2019r\n \u201cBy whom thou say\u2019st I live;\n \u201cYet He beholds me, while I bloom,\n \u201cA grateful tribute give.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cMy fragrance, nay, that friendly shade,\n \u201cWhich you ungrateful blame,\n \u201cAre off\u2019rings still to PH\u0152BUS\u2019 self,\n \u201cWho nurs\u2019d them with his flame.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n \u201cHe, for the use of base mankind,\n \u201cBade me all these dispense:\n \u201cFor whom I spread these vernal charms,\n \u201cSo pleasing to the sense.\n\n\nXV.\n\n \u201cUngrateful THOU, thy ill-meant charge\n \u201cTake back, so mis-apply\u2019d:\n \u201cAnd fairly reason with thy heart,\n \u201cAnd check thy selfish pride.\n\n\nXVI.\n\n \u201cThou, in my shadows late reclin\u2019d,\n \u201cCould\u2019st pass the hours at ease;\n \u201c_Then_, what is _now_ ingratitude,\n \u201cThy narrow mind could please.\n\n\nXVII.\n\n \u201cTake back the charge; thy maxim too;\n With thee let others use:\u2014\n \u201cKeep THOU this moral in thy mind,\n \u201c_T\u2019 enjoy, but not abuse_.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XIV.\n\nTHE BLUE-BELL; or, VENUS\u2019S LOOKING-GLASS.\n\n\nI.\n\n O\u2019er verdant lawns, and dappled meads,\n The young BELINDA stray\u2019d;\n On ev\u2019ry tree, on ev\u2019ry flow\u2019r,\n Philosophis\u2019d the maid.\n\n\nII.\n\n The Cowslip, and the Primrose too,\n Had oft-times been her theme;\n And yellow Crocus\u2019 flaming dyes\n Had ting\u2019d her waking dream.\n\n\nIII.\n\n For, roving o\u2019er the pathless grass,\n Or through the woodland wild;\n She oft with Contemplation walk\u2019d\n _Bright Fancy\u2019s sweetest child_.\n\n\nIV.\n\n Absorb\u2019d and lost in Nature\u2019s maze,\n Then rapt from earth she stood;\n And, pleas\u2019d, in all his various works,\n The great Creator view\u2019d.\n\n\nV.\n\n \u2019Twas smiling May; the op\u2019ning year\n With vernal grace was crown\u2019d;\n And ev\u2019ry plant, and ev\u2019ry flow\u2019r,\n Diffus\u2019d fresh fragrance round.\n\n\nVI.\n\n From cultur\u2019d gardens far remote\n The beauteous charmer rov\u2019d;\n And listen\u2019d to the birds wild notes,\n And rang\u2019d those meads she lov\u2019d.\n\n\nVII.\n\n To court the touch of her fair hand,\n Each field-flow\u2019r eager press\u2019d;\n To bask beneath her funny eyes,\n And kiss her snowy breast.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n Amongst the crowd, a flow\u2019r she \u2019spy\u2019d,\n Long since well known to fame;\n Of _Venus\u2019 Looking-glass_ whose pride\n Assum\u2019d the pompous name.\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cAnd how! she cry\u2019d, can\u2019st thou display,\n \u201cTo captivate the sight,\n \u201cMore than the stream, which yonder rolls\n \u201cIts glassy mirrour bright?\u201d\n\n\nX.\n\n She sought in vain; a bell-shap\u2019d flow\u2019r,\n With Vi\u2019let blossoms crown\u2019d:\n Diffus\u2019d itself with mingled corn,\n And purpled o\u2019er the ground.\n\n\nXI.\n\n She pluck\u2019d, but strait away she cast\n The vain pretender far;\n Which angry ruffled all its flow\u2019rs,\n In vegetable war:\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cWhat had bright VENUS\u2019 mirrour done,\n \u201cThus to be cast aside?\n \u201cOr how (she said) could VENUS\u2019 Nymph\n \u201cThe Goddess\u2019 gift deride?\u201d\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cPeace! angry thing! BELINDA said;\n \u201cNot VENUS I despise;\n \u201cBut _you_, who by your own false glass\n \u201cWould cheat deluded eyes.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n \u201cWhat boots it thus your high descent,\n \u201cAs Goddess-born, to claim;\n \u201cIf not one smallest trace appear\n \u201cOf your exalted name?\n\n\nXV.\n\n \u201cGo! in yon\u2019 _real_ mirrour view\n \u201cThe form which you possess;\n \u201cThen speak but what you _really are_;\n \u201cAnd be your boasting less.\n\n\nXVI.\n\n \u201cA Blue-bell of the finest dye,\n \u201cYou well may be allow\u2019d;\n \u201cBut _Venus\u2019 Looking-glass_ in vain\n \u201cWould cheat a giddy crowd.\u201d\n\n\nXVII.\n\n The haughty flow\u2019r corrected stood.\u2014\n Attend, ye British fair:\n _Let not_ appearances _prevail_;\n _Be_ real worth _your care_.\n\n\nXVIII.\n\n _And know, whoe\u2019er by vain pretence_\n _Shall others seek to blind;_\n _Must stand abash\u2019d, when brought before_\n _The_ MIRROUR OF THE MIND.\n\n[Illustration: _Fab XV. The Larkspur & Myrtle_]\n\n[Illustration: _Fab XVI. The Poppy & Sun-Flower_]\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XV.\n\nThe LARKSPUR and the MYRTLE.\n\n\nI.\n\n Fav\u2019rite of MARS, amidst the tribes\n That on bright FLORA wait,\n And swell the glories of her reign\n With more than regal state;\n\n\nII.\n\n The Larkspur, plant of ancient stock,\n Advanc\u2019d his ensign high;\n And claim\u2019d th\u2019 immortal wreath of fame,\n Due to a Deity.\n\n\nIII.\n\n Like some bold warrior\u2019s is his mien;\n Helmet and spurs he wears;\n And on his coat of vary\u2019d dyes\n Each warlike blazon bears.\n\n\nIV.\n\n Proud of his form, and of the [17]Pow\u2019r\n That from his contact sprung;\n Exalted above all his peers,\n Thus Pride inspir\u2019d his tongue:\n\n\nV.\n\n \u201cYe painted, puling race, avaunt!\n \u201cTo greater merit yield;\n \u201cForego the honours of the day,\n \u201cWhen I dispute the field.\n\n\nVI.\n\n \u201cFar hence your tinsel trappings bear\n \u201cTo some luxuriant bed,\n \u201cWhere, nurs\u2019d by ZEPHYR\u2019S wanton gales,\n \u201cTheir idle bloom may spread!\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cIn ME behold the warrior\u2019s grace,\n \u201cAnd monarch\u2019s pow\u2019r display\u2019d;\n \u201cIn me, to Heav\u2019n itself ally\u2019d,\n \u201cIn martial pomp array\u2019d.\n\n[17] Juno is said to have conceived Mars by only touching the flower\ncalled Larkspur.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cEmblem of thund\u2019ring MARS I rise,\n \u201cMy boast and offspring too;\n \u201cThen own the progeny divine,\n \u201cAnd pay the tribute due.\u201d\n\n\nIX.\n\n The Myrtle heard;\u2014fair VENUS\u2019 care,\n With peaceful honours crown\u2019d;\n The glory of the genial hour,\n By lovers still renown\u2019d.\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cAnd how! said she, redoubted knight,\n \u201cWould\u2019st thou with US engage?\n \u201cDid ever MARS, of glory vain,\n \u201cRough wars with VENUS wage?\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201c_Her_ flow\u2019r I am; _her_ name I boast,\n \u201cWho can mankind subdue;\n \u201cAnd by a gentler method far\n \u201cThan any known to you.\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cSay, boaster, what are realms destroy\u2019d\n \u201cBy many a foughten field;\n \u201cWhen desp\u2019rate battles, bravely won,\n \u201cA bloody harvest yield?\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cCan these atone the dreadful ills\n \u201cThat wasteful wars supply;\n \u201cWhen from the horrid din of arms\n \u201cThe Loves and Graces fly?\n\n\nXIV.\n\n \u201cRemember, when the blue-ey\u2019d Maid\n \u201cWith NEPTUNE did contend:\n \u201cSay, who the greatest gift produc\u2019d;\n \u201cAnd let our contest end.\n\n\nXV.\n\n \u201cThe Palm to PALLAS was decreed,\n \u201cWho nam\u2019d fair ATHENS; there\n \u201cThe warlike steed, great NEPTUNE\u2019S boast,\n \u201cYields to the Olive fair.\n\n\nXVI.\n\n \u201cThen thou, proud Knight, exult no more,\n \u201cAbase thy haughty crest;\n \u201cGive honour due to meek-ey\u2019d Peace,\n \u201cAnd Love, her genial guest.\u201d\n\n\nXVII.\n\n _Let then great_ MARS _his Pow\u2019r resign_\n _To brighter_ VENUS\u2019 _fame;_\n _And quit the glories of the field,_\n _When_ LOVE _disputes the claim_.\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XVI.\n\nThe POPPY and the SUN-FLOWER.\n\n\nI.\n\n Transplanted from the neighb\u2019ring mead,\n Which long her presence grac\u2019d;\n The crimson POPPY rear\u2019d her head,\n In the rich garden plac\u2019d.\n\n\nII.\n\n Thence, fann\u2019d by many a gentle gale,\n Full oft her scent is borne;\n Both when the ev\u2019ning shades prevail,\n And at the rise of morn.\n\n\nIII.\n\n At noon, when ev\u2019n without _her_ aid\n The flow\u2019rs all droop\u2019d around;\n CLYTIE, bright PH\u0152BUS\u2019 love-sick maid,\n With all _his_ glories crown\u2019d,\n\n\nIV.\n\n Still turning to his orb her face,\n Survey\u2019d th\u2019 intruding guest;\n And, foe to ev\u2019ry sleepy pow\u2019r,\n The stranger thus address\u2019d;\n\n\nV.\n\n \u201cLong have we seen each field-flow\u2019r bloom\n \u201cOur cultur\u2019d gardens shame:\n \u201cWhich, hither brought, triumphant rise,\n \u201cAnd share our nobler fame:\n\n\nVI.\n\n \u201cThou, drowsy POPPY, too, at last,\n \u201cOur rival dost appear,\n \u201cReplete with drugs, whose pois\u2019nous strength\n \u201cCorrupts the ambient air.\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cBut think not here, insulting weed!\n \u201c(Fair CERES\u2019 hate and bane)\n \u201cThy drowsy magic shall prevail,\n \u201cTo blot our brighter reign.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cGo, seek thy fields; with noxious weeds\n \u201cDivide detested sway:\n \u201cOr, where thy slumbers nought disturb,\n \u201cShun the glad face of day.\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cWhilst I, to PH\u0152BUS ever true,\n \u201cRejoicing in his light;\n \u201cTo the great God his tribute pay,\n \u201cAnd check the pow\u2019rs of Night.\u201d\n\n\nX.\n\n She spoke;\u2014The nodding POPPY then,\n Serene, made this reply:\n \u201cProud flow\u2019r, I envy not thy state,\n \u201cNor coat of richest dye.\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cWhat boast\u2019st thou of his genial pow\u2019r,\n \u201cWho slighted all thy charms;\n \u201cAnd, in thy beauty\u2019s brightest noon,\n \u201cFled to another\u2019s arms?\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cHow didst thou mourn, and how revenge?\n \u201cLEUCOTHOE[18] speaks thy crime;\n \u201cWhose odours still to Heav\u2019n ascend,\n \u201cAnd shall to latest time.\n\n[18] Apollo having forsaken Clytie for this Nymph; the former, in\nreturn, informed Leucothoe\u2019s father of his daughter\u2019s amour with\nPh\u0153bus. He thereupon buried Leucothoe alive; but Ph\u0153bus changed her\ninto a Frankincense Tree; and after this, Clytie being discarded by the\nGod, who was beyond measure offended with her, she pined away, and was\nchanged into a Sun-Flower.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cNot _Love_, but _Pity_, mov\u2019d high Heav\u2019n\n \u201cTo make thee what thou art;\n \u201cAnd place amidst the blooming flow\u2019rs\n \u201cA Nymph with broken heart.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n \u201cCease then to vaunt thy heav\u2019nly love,\n \u201cNor me so much despise;\n \u201cFull plain th\u2019 advantages appear,\n \u201cWhich from my pow\u2019r arise.\n\n\nXV.\n\n \u201cMe CERES _hates not_; but my seed\n \u201cGreat Nature near her sows;\n \u201cWhere, far unlike a noxious weed,\n \u201cThe beauteous flow\u2019ret blows.\n\n\nXVI.\n\n \u201cSleep, gentle God, the ease of grief,\n \u201cTo weary man I bring;\n \u201cFrom care and pain the sweetest balm,\n \u201cOf vig\u2019rous health the spring.\n\n\nXVII.\n\n \u201cI, to the wretched friendly still,\n \u201cThe mourning captives aid;\n \u201cMy succour to the poor extend,\n \u201cAnd ease the love-sick maid.\n\n\nXVIII.\n\n \u201cThen what Heav\u2019n order\u2019d for the best,\n \u201cDo thou no longer blame:\n \u201cLet _me_ old MORPHEUS\u2019 honours share,\n \u201cJoy _thou_ in PH\u0152BUS\u2019 flame.\n\n\nXIX.\n\n \u201cMore need I add?\u2014Search Earth around,\n \u201cAnd thou shalt truly say,\n \u201c_More Virtues in Life\u2019s shade will bloom,_\n \u201c_Than in her blaze of day_.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. XVII. The Iris & Rose_]\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. XVIII. The Nasturtium & Wall flower_]\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XVII.\n\nThe IRIS, or FLOWER de LUCE, and the ROSE.\n\n\nI.\n\n Yes, there are some who, proudly vain\n Still boast of others\u2019 due;\n With empty titles cheat the crowd,\n And set false shows to view.\n\n\nII.\n\n Such ever ancient worth disgrace,\n Make real titles scorn\u2019d;\n While by bright Honour\u2019s genuine race\n Those titles are adorn\u2019d.\n\n\nIII.\n\n The fairest of sweet FLORA\u2019S tribe\n Boast not the proudest name;\n Nor men, with gaudiest titles deck\u2019d,\n Are truest sons of Fame.\n\n\nIV.\n\n What art thou, bold and spreading flow\u2019r,\n In fields and gardens known;\n That still assum\u2019st a Monarch\u2019s grace,\n And claim\u2019st a Pageant throne?\n\n\nV.\n\n \u201cGenius of nations, guardian pow\u2019rs,\n \u201cThat still on Monarchs wait!\n \u201cYou your own plant shall still protect,\n \u201cAn emblem of your state.\n\n\nVI.\n\n \u201cAnd, Goddess of the painted Bow!\n \u201cStill to thy flow\u2019r prove true;\n \u201cAlly\u2019d to thee, I justly claim\n \u201cThy name and colours too[19].\n\n[19] Iris being the name given to the Rainbow.\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cWhich then of all the painted train\n \u201cThat swell this garden\u2019s pride,\n \u201cShall with my honour\u2019d name compare,\n \u201cOr sway with me divide?\u201d\n\n\nVIII.\n\n This mark\u2019d the ROSE, a modest flow\u2019r,\n With maiden blushes bright;\n Who, vex\u2019d to hear the boaster\u2019s vaunt,\n Asserts her native right.\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cWhat are thy titles vain, she said,\n \u201cThat claim superior sway?\n \u201cOr why should all fair FLORA\u2019S tribes\n \u201cA rule like thine obey?\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cFalse is thy boast; thy title vain\n \u201cNot Gallia\u2019s self will own;\n \u201cWhose _real_ LILIES droop and fade,\n \u201cWhere-e\u2019er my flow\u2019rs are known.\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cWhy IRIS?\u2014Why by Heav\u2019n\u2019s own bow\n \u201cWould\u2019st thou thus climb to fame?\n \u201cOr cannot many a vary\u2019d flow\u2019r\n \u201cExert a fairer claim?\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cPlain FLAG thou art;\u2014let that suffice;\n \u201cWith LILIES I contend;\n \u201cBut flow\u2019rs like thine I still regard,\n \u201cAlike as foe or friend.\u201d\n\n\nXIII.\n\n The vain pretender heard, abash\u2019d,\n And hung her drooping head;\n While to the genial fun her leaves\n The ROSE expanding spread.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n Her odour strait proclaim\u2019d her queen\n Of all the smiling flow\u2019rs;\n While the Bee sought the fragrant breast,\n And left his honey\u2019d bow\u2019rs.\n\n\nXV.\n\n Thus to the ROSE the meed was giv\u2019n;\n FLORA confirm\u2019d her reign;\n _And worth, like her\u2019s, approv\u2019d by Heav\u2019n,_\n _Shall Heav\u2019n itself maintain_.\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XVIII.\n\nThe NASTURTIUM and the WALL FLOWER.\n\n\nI.\n\n Against a funny fence below\n The fair NASTURTIUM plac\u2019d,\n Beheld how well its highest tops\n The fragrant WALL-FLOW\u2019R grac\u2019d.\n\n\nII.\n\n Without some useful kind support\n Unable to survive;\n Ill could she bear another flow\u2019r\n By the same means should thrive.\n\n\nIII.\n\n At length, one sultry summer\u2019s noon,\n When radiant PH\u0152BUS shone\n On both alike with chearing ray,\n She envious thus begun:\n\n\nIV.\n\n \u201cHad I the WALL-FLOW\u2019R\u2019S fragrant scent,\n \u201cWould I alone thus bloom;\n \u201cOn yonder peak obscurely dwell,\n \u201cAnd waste my rich perfume!\n\n\nV.\n\n \u201cFor shame, yield to inferior flow\u2019rs\n \u201cThat strange and uncouth place;\n \u201cNor, like some noxious worthless weed,\n \u201cNurse there thy beauteous race.\n\n\nVI.\n\n \u201cBesides, _I_ claim the humbler boon,\n \u201cAgainst this fence to blow;\n \u201cWhile thee the more indulgent Heav\u2019n\n \u201cMay safely place below.\u201d\n\n\nVII.\n\n She spoke;\u2014the WALL-FLOW\u2019R thus reply\u2019d,\n \u201cAmbition is not mine;\n \u201cMy native place is still my joy:\n \u201cDo thou delight in thine.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cFull well I know that perils still\n \u201cOn frequent change attend:\n \u201cAnd they oft spoil their present state,\n \u201cWho hasty strive to mend.\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cNor less can I _thy_ drift observe,\n \u201cWho, envious of my lot,\n \u201cWould\u2019st me of ev\u2019ry help bereave,\n \u201cDrawn from my native spot.\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cToo selfish flow\u2019r, who vainly this\n \u201cWould\u2019st me of life deprive;\n \u201cAnd by my downfall think\u2019st to rise,\n \u201cAnd on my ruin thrive.\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cKnow, that th\u2019 all-chearing lamp of day\n \u201cOn both alike bestows\n \u201cHis sov\u2019reign gifts; for All his light\n \u201cWithout distinction glows.\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cIs not that source of genial fire\n \u201cSufficient _both_ to warm,\n \u201cThat thou should\u2019st thus unkindly seek\n \u201cThy quiet neighbour\u2019s harm?\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cAnd what if I consenting give,\n \u201cAmbitious! thy desire?\n \u201cWere I now low in ashes laid,\n \u201cSay, could\u2019st thou climb the higher?\n\n\nXIV.\n\n \u201cFor shame, th\u2019 ungen\u2019rous wish forego,\n \u201cRejoice in others\u2019 joy;\n \u201cAnd lengthen\u2019d scenes of double bliss\n \u201cShall all thy hours employ.\n\n\nXV.\n\n \u201cFor know, where Envy\u2019s pow\u2019r prevails,\n \u201cPeace, Love, and Joy, retire:\n \u201cHer vot\u2019ries feel eternal pains,\n \u201cAnd burn with ceaseless fire.\u201d\n\n\nXVI.\n\n _Felicity with Concord dwells;_\n _And ev\u2019ry joy of peace_\n _Heav\u2019n\u2019s sacred hand still bounteous gives,_\n _And blesses the increase._\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. XIX. The Lapland Rose._]\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. XX. The Deadly Nightshade._]\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XIX.\n\nTHE LAPLAND ROSE.\n\n\nI.\n\n A wand\u2019ring youth, by Fortune led\n To bleakest northern shores,\n Beyond the track of Russian wilds,\n Where Lapland\u2019s tempest roars;\n\n\nII.\n\n Who twice the Arctic circle pass\u2019d,\n And view\u2019d bright HECLA\u2019S[20] flame;\n At length, through many a waste of snow,\n To fair NIEMI[21] came.\n\n[20] A Volcano in the North, whose sides are covered with snow.\n\n[21] The Mountains of NIEMI are in the neighbourhood of a lake of the\nsame name, which is said by the inhabitants to be frequented by the\nimmortal Genii.\n\n\nIII.\n\n And thence where TENGLIO[22] rolls his stream,\n Survey\u2019d the prospect round;\n Beheld its banks with verdure deck\u2019d,\n And blushing roses crown\u2019d.\n\n[22] This River is bordered with Roses of as fine a bloom as those\nwhich grow in our gardens.\n\n\nIV.\n\n Stuck with the scene, a while he paus\u2019d,\n As lost in sweet delight;\n And ey\u2019d the fairest of the train\n In native beauty bright.\n\n\nV.\n\n Yet, as he view\u2019d the stranger flow\u2019r,\n He deeply musing cries,\n \u201cHow strange that beauties such as thine\n \u201c\u2019Midst climes like these should rise!\n\n\nVI.\n\n \u201cThee no bright youth nor gentle fair\n \u201cAlas! shall e\u2019er caress;\n \u201cNor splendid southern suns shall warm,\n \u201cNor genial gales shall bless!\u201d\n\n\nVII.\n\n On hollow winds, o\u2019er distant plains,\n The murm\u2019ring accents flew;\n NIEMI\u2019S mountains caught the sound,\n Which from the lake his shadows drew.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n And now before the youth confess\u2019d\n The Genius of the clime\n Appear\u2019d; who thus instructive spoke,\n In awful strains sublime;\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cFond youth, who view\u2019st that beauteous flow\u2019r,\n \u201cSo luckless in thy fight!\n \u201cForbear to mourn her lonely state,\n \u201cWhom these rude climes delight.\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cUnrival\u2019d here she sweetly blooms,\n \u201cAnd scents the ambient air;\n \u201cNor deems her brightest beauties lost,\n \u201cWhile foster\u2019d by _my_ care.\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cNor envies she the gaudy tribe\n \u201cBeneath the southern skies,\n \u201cThat bloom in some luxurious bow\u2019rs,\n \u201cWhere mingled sweets arise.\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cThe child of bounteous Nature! here\n \u201cShe bids her bloom dispense\n \u201cFresh sweets, the trav\u2019ler\u2019s soul to chear,\n \u201cAnd glad his weary\u2019d sense.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cHer no bright youth nor gaudy fair\n \u201cShall COURT _but to_ DESTROY;\n \u201cBut Lapland\u2019s simple swains shall view,\n \u201cWith _unaffected joy_;\n\n\nXIV.\n\n \u201cAnd, oft\u2019 as yon\u2019 returning Sun\n \u201cIllumes our northern sphere,\n \u201cWell pleas\u2019d shall trace these flow\u2019ry banks,\n \u201cAnd pay their homage here.\n\n\nXV.\n\n \u201cLet _others_ seek where spacious meads,\n \u201cOr painted gardens glow;\n \u201cDespise _my_ solitary flow\u2019rs,\n \u201cAnd live the slaves of show.\n\n\nXVI.\n\n \u201cBut know, high Heav\u2019n in desart wastes\n \u201cCan bid rich Spring to bloom;\n \u201cAnd waken Nature into life,\n \u201cFrom Winter\u2019s dreary tomb.\n\n\nXVII.\n\n \u201cThe gracious Pow\u2019r who rules on high,\n \u201cBids ALL his blessings share;\n \u201cAnd ev\u2019ry creature of his hand\n \u201cIs govern\u2019d by his care.\n\n\nXVIII.\n\n \u201cConvinc\u2019d that Providence will thus\n \u201cFor ALL alike provide;\n \u201c_Learn to restrain Affliction\u2019s tears,_\n \u201c_And check the boast of Pride_.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XX.\n\nThe DEADLY NIGHTSHADE[23].\n\n\nI.\n\n \u201cDetested weed, enrag\u2019d, I said,\n \u201cThat spread\u2019st thy poison\u2019d train\n \u201cIn this fair land, midst blooming flow\u2019rs,\n \u201cWhich grace the happy plain!\n\n\nII.\n\n \u201cThy baleful root most surely springs\n \u201cFrom deep Tartarean shade;\n \u201cBy envious D\u00e6mons nurs\u2019d below,\n \u201cIn Stygian gloom array\u2019d.\n\n[23] The juice of this weed was generally supposed to be used in\nEnchantments\u2014There are however several sorts of it, all of which are\nnot esteemed deadly; but only this mentioned here, the juice of whose\nberries so intoxicated the army of Sweno the Danish King, being mixed\nin their liquor, that they became an easy prey to the Scotch army,\nwhich surprised and cut most of them to pieces.\n\n\nIII.\n\n \u201cThee CIRCE, and MED\u00c6A too,\n \u201cIn black enchantment us\u2019d;\n \u201cWith baneful plants most fitly mix\u2019d,\n \u201cIn hellish steams suffus\u2019d.\n\n\nIV.\n\n \u201cAh! why does Parent NATURE form,\n \u201cSuch works, _her_ works to spoil;\n \u201cAnd by _her own hand_ teach mankind,\n \u201cInfernal arts and guile?\n\n\nV.\n\n \u201cSay, fell Enchantress of the plain,\n \u201cThe foe of human-kind?\n \u201cSay for what crimes man\u2019s hapless race\n \u201cFrom thee such evils find!\n\n\nVI.\n\n \u201cOh! quit the woods, the plains, the fields,\n \u201cWhere health and plenty bloom:\n \u201cRetire to rocks and desart-wilds,\n \u201cOr shade the Murd\u2019rer\u2019s tomb.\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cOr rather haste to PLUTO\u2019S realm;\n \u201c_There_ hide thy hated head,\n \u201cAnd flourish still unrival\u2019d there;\n \u201cWhere Styx\u2019 nine streams are spread.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cBut _here_ may ev\u2019ry healing flow\u2019r\n \u201cIn prime of beauty bloom:\n \u201cTo sick\u2019ning Man restoring health,\n \u201cAnd shedding rich perfume!\u201d\n\n\nIX.\n\n I ceas\u2019d\u2014The Flow\u2019r indignant heard;\n And all its leaves display\u2019d\n A deep\u2019ning gloom, which flung around\n _A double_ NIGHT OF SHADE.\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cInsulting Man!\u201d she trembling cry\u2019d,\n \u201cOf creatures most unjust;\n \u201cStill taxing Nature with those faults,\n \u201cSprung from _his_ evil lust.\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cThe poison\u2019d Snake, the noxious Weed,\n \u201cEarth\u2019s venom\u2019d juices drain;\n \u201cAnd, more than all yon\u2019 fragrant flow\u2019rs,\n \u201cEnrich with health the plain.\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cNay of _my race_ grows many a plant,\n \u201cWhich, of rich gifts possest,\n \u201cThe sage Physician culls with care,\n \u201cTo ease the Patient\u2019s breast.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cLet Man his own wild passions tame,\n \u201cAnd hush them into Peace;\n \u201cMED\u00c6A\u2019S wand, and CIRCE\u2019S cup,\n \u201cWere innocent to _these_.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n \u201cFor ME, great Nature\u2019s high behest;\n \u201cContented I fulfil;\n \u201cNor dream that aught by _her_ ordain\u2019d,\n \u201cCan ever end in _ill_.\n\n\nXV.\n\n \u201c_Go thou, fond youth, and_ VIRTUE\u2019S _charge_\n \u201c_With equal care obey:_\n \u201c_Then ev\u2019ry Weed shall prove a Flow\u2019r,_\n \u201c_To strew thy destin\u2019d way._\u201d\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. XXI. The Crown Imperial and Heartsease._]\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. XXII. The Water Lily._]\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XXI.\n\nThe CROWN IMPERIAL and HEART\u2019S-EASE.\n\n\nI.\n\n Lo! where from Persia\u2019s warmer clime,\n And ancient Bactria\u2019s land;\n With interwoven purple wrought,\n The ensign of command,\n\n\nII.\n\n The CROWN IMPERIAL rears aloft\n His rich and gorgeous head,\n And, pointing to the distant sky,\n Bids all his glories spread.\n\n\nIII.\n\n Beneath, in humbler station plac\u2019d,\n The fair VIOLA grew,\n Which the lov\u2019d name of _Heart\u2019s-Ease_ bears,\n Whose pow\u2019r can Care subdue.\n\n\nIV.\n\n The purple monarch swell\u2019d with ire,\n Indignant to behold\n The flow\u2019ret blooming near his side,\n And thus his anger told;\n\n\nV.\n\n \u201cRash flow\u2019r, seest thou my aweful state,\n \u201cThat speaks the garden\u2019s king?\n \u201cSee\u2019st thou th\u2019 Imperial Crown that decks,\n \u201cAnd gems that round me spring.\n\n\nVI.\n\n \u201cI from the East my lineage draw,\n \u201cWhere chief of flow\u2019rs I rise;\n \u201cAnd amidst thousands raise my fame,\n \u201cEv\u2019n to the starry skies.\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cGo then, base daughter of the earth!\n \u201cNear some vile cottage grow;\n \u201cNor give thy paltry race to rise\n \u201cWhere my bright blossoms blow!\u201d\n\n\nVIII.\n\n The sweet VIOLA inly mourn\u2019d\n The boaster\u2019s ill-plac\u2019d pride;\n And, while this answer she return\u2019d,\n The flow\u2019r with pity ey\u2019d:\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cGreat is the boast, I own, she said,\n \u201cOf pomp and scepter\u2019d pow\u2019r;\n \u201cBut _greater_ are the blessings found\n \u201cIn life\u2019s serener hour.\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201c_Thee_ purple honours still adorn,\n \u201cWhich teach thy leaves to shine;\n \u201cBut to breathe fragrance on the day,\n \u201cProud plant! was never _thine_.\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cThat _I_ am stranger to thy race,\n \u201cThe cause is plain to tell;\n \u201cFor when did _Heart\u2019s-Ease_ ever deign\n \u201cWith _crowned heads_ to dwell?\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cME still in life\u2019s more humble vale\n \u201cMost certain will you find;\n \u201cThere most _my_ simple sweets are known,\n \u201cWhere Fortune proves least kind.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cGo learn, _That neither wealth nor pomp_\n \u201c_True blessings can bestow_;\n \u201c_On sweet_ CONTENT _alone await_\n \u201c_All joy and bliss below_.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XXII.\n\nTHE WATER LILY.\n\n\nI.\n\n Within a crystal riv\u2019let bright,\n Whose sides, with verdure crown\u2019d,\n From shelving banks reflected wide\n The landscape bord\u2019ring round,\n\n\nII.\n\n A WATER LILY peaceful rear\u2019d\n Her lovely, graceful head;\n And on the gently-heaving stream\n Her beauteous flow\u2019rs were spread.\n\n\nIII.\n\n Thence she beheld the banks with flow\u2019rs\n Of various kinds array\u2019d;\n And nodding trees, that far dispers\u2019d\n Their over-hanging shade;\n\n\nIV.\n\n For there the lofty Poplar grew,\n Still mingling white with green;\n And there the rustling Aspin too\n With trembling leaves was seen.\n\n\nV.\n\n The Willow, nodding o\u2019er the brook,\n Drinks deep the stream below;\n Cowslip and Primrose near at hand,\n And purple Iris glow.\n\n\nVI.\n\n The LILY saw, and to the lake\n Thus soft-complaining cry\u2019d,\n While gentle ZEPHYRS bore the sound,\n Which spread from side to side:\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cAh hapless lot! while _others_ bloom\n \u201cOn yonder happy shore,\n \u201cAmongst their kindred tribes\u2014_my_ fate\n \u201cHere lonely I deplore.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cCondemn\u2019d amid this watry waste\n \u201cFor ever to remain;\n \u201cNor taste the joys which _others_ know\n \u201cOn yonder flow\u2019ry plain.\u201d\n\n\nIX.\n\n The GODDESS OF THE WATER heard,\n And Anger mov\u2019d her heart;\n \u201cHow dar\u2019st thou thus affront (she said)\n \u201cThe Pow\u2019r by which thou ART?\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cThose other trees and flow\u2019rs thou see\u2019st,\n \u201cALL sprang from Mother Earth:\n \u201cAnd grateful tribute ALL return\n \u201cTo Her who gave them birth.\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cWhile _thou_, alas! should _I_ withdraw\n \u201cThe least of this my store;\n \u201cShalt call on _other_ Pow\u2019rs in vain,\n \u201cAnd sink, to rise no more.\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cBeauteous thou art, nor meanly priz\u2019d:\n \u201cThen lay no blame on me;\n \u201cNor seek what, though it _others_ bless,\n \u201cMust surely ruin _thee_.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cBut still revere this facted truth,\n \u201c_Whatever may betide_;\n \u201c_What Heav\u2019n decrees is always_ BEST,\n \u201c_And all is_ BAD _beside_.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. XXIII. The Lover & Funeral Flowers_]\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. XXIV. The Field & Garden Daisy_]\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XXIII.\n\nThe FUNERAL FLOWERS.\n\n\nI.\n\n As, lonely walking o\u2019er the plain,\n With solemn step and slow,\n A hapless swain, at midnight hour,\n Went forth to vent his woe;\n\n\nII.\n\n His hand the sweetest flow\u2019rets fill\u2019d\n That glow\u2019d with beauty\u2019s bloom;\n Now destin\u2019d with their richest tints\n T\u2019 adorn his LAURA\u2019S tomb.\n\n\nIII.\n\n Lo! there each mournful flow\u2019r he strew\u2019d,\n Which vernal FLORA bears;\n With frequent sighs dispers\u2019d them round,\n And water\u2019d them with tears.\n\n\nIV.\n\n There was the VI\u2019LET\u2019S purple hue,\n And HYACINTHUS seen;\n The leaves with monarch\u2019s names inscrib\u2019d,\n And plaintive notes between.\n\n\nV.\n\n Sweet ROSEMARY, and many a plant\n In Eastern gardens known;\n And Lover\u2019s MYRTLE, which the Queen\n Of Beauty deigns to own.\n\n\nVI.\n\n A Sage, who wander\u2019d there alone\n In the dank dews of night,\n To gather plants of mystic pow\u2019r,\n Beneath the moon\u2019s pale light,\n\n\nVII.\n\n With scornful smile, and eye askance,\n The hapless youth survey\u2019d;\n Who paid the last sad tribute there\n To the departed maid.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cAnd what! (said he) shall those sweet flow\u2019rs,\n \u201cWhich sinking life can save,\n \u201cAnd plants of aromatic scent,\n \u201cAdorn a _dreary grave_?\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cFor shame, fond youth! learn Nature\u2019s gifts\n \u201cWith better skill to prize.\n \u201cAttend her precepts; read them here:\n \u201cBe _frugal_, and be _wise_.\u201d\n\n\nX.\n\n He ceas\u2019d; the sighing youth reply\u2019d,\n \u201cTo LAURA\u2019S shade I give,\n \u201cUnblam\u2019d, each emblematic flow\u2019r,\n \u201cWhich _she_ first taught to live.\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cAnd frequent here fair FLORA\u2019S train\n \u201c_Uncull\u2019d by_ ME shall bloom;\n \u201cAnd, nurs\u2019d by bright AURORA\u2019S tears,\n \u201cDiffuse their rich perfume.\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cThen urge me not, with narrow mind,\n \u201cTo wrong the dust below;\n \u201cBut rather THOU expand thy heart,\n \u201cAnd gen\u2019rous tears bestow.\u201d\n\n\nXIII.\n\n Thus as he spoke, the REDBREAST mild,\n The friend of human-kind,\n Wide scatter\u2019d leaves o\u2019er the low mound,\n And on the turf reclin\u2019d.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n While PHILOMEL with plaintive notes\n Funereal dirges sung\n O\u2019er LAURA\u2019S tomb, who oft\u2019 in life\n Had mourn\u2019d _her_ ravish\u2019d young.\n\n\nXV.\n\n And vain (she sang) was Wisdom\u2019s lore,\n That taught the heart to hide;\n And vain the empty idle boast\n Of Philosophic Pride.\n\n\nXVI.\n\n The flow\u2019rs more sweetly seem\u2019d to smile\n Reviving at her lay;\n And sweeter scent, and fresher green,\n The swelling leaves display.\n\n\nXVII.\n\n The Sage stood check\u2019d, the solemn song\n Such virtue could impart;\n He dropp\u2019d a tear, to pity due,\n That humaniz\u2019d the heart.\n\n\nXVIII.\n\n The \u201cgraceful softness of the soul\u201d\n He learn\u2019d thenceforth to prize;\n And own\u2019d, _where_ NATURE _touch\u2019d the Heart,_\n _\u2019Twas_ FOLLY _to be_ WISE.\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XXIV.\n\nThe FIELD and GARDEN DAISY.\n\n\nI.\n\n In fields, where Thames her swelling wave\n Translucent pours along;\n Where many a blooming green retreat\n Inspires the poet\u2019s song;\n\n\nII.\n\n A mead with native beauty crown\u2019d,\n Extends its verdant bed;\n Where fragrant Field-flow\u2019rs wildly bloom,\n In sweet confusion spread.\n\n\nIII.\n\n It chanc\u2019d a sportive youth had there\n A GARDEN DAISY rear\u2019d,\n Which \u2019midst the tribe of wilder sort\n Full haughtily appear\u2019d.\n\n\nIV.\n\n \u201cAway! (she cry\u2019d) ye meaner train,\n \u201cWhose leaves no culture know;\n \u201cRespect the Cultivated Flower,\n \u201cThat _deigns_ in fields to grow!\n\n\nV.\n\n \u201cAnd chiefly _thou_ that boast\u2019st _my_ name,\n \u201cThough surely _not ally\u2019d_;\n \u201cClaim kindred with thy native weeds,\n \u201cNor flourish by _my_ side!\n\n\nVI.\n\n \u201cI know thee not;\u2014thy form I scorn;\n \u201cIn native splendour bright\n \u201cIRIS has dipp\u2019d my painted leaves,\n \u201cAll beauteous to the sight.\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cWhilst THOU!\u2014but vainly spent the time,\n \u201cOn such a flow\u2019r bestow\u2019d:\n \u201cDisdain\u2019d by all the Garden\u2019s tribes,\n \u201c_My_ late belov\u2019d abode.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cKnow ME your queen, ye low-born race,\n \u201cConfess superior sway;\n \u201cNor longer in my presence bloom,\n \u201cBut tremble, and obey.\u201d\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cTo foul reproach (the DAISY said)\n \u201cWhat answer can we yield,\n \u201cWhen _cultivated flow\u2019rs_ insult\n \u201cThe natives of the field?\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cYet what art THOU? proud gaudy toy,\n \u201cDescended but from me,\n \u201cWho mourn too late I e\u2019er gave birth\n \u201cTo such Ingrates as thee!\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cI have my use, and oft\u2019 am seen\n \u201cThe village maids t\u2019 adorn:\n \u201cGo prouder _thou_, in gardens bloom,\n \u201cAnd be the great-ones scorn.\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cBut here, proud flow\u2019r, thy date is short,\n \u201cThe soil denies thee room;\n \u201cAnd ev\u2019n this spot, where now thou swell\u2019st,\n \u201cShall shortly prove thy tomb.\u201d\n\n\nXIII.\n\n The Sun gaz\u2019d hot, the foreign field\n No moisture would supply;\n Soon did the boaster droop her head,\n And wither, fade, and die.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n What need I more?\u2014The village swain,\n While on the sod reclin\u2019d,\n Feels the plain Moral of the Tale\n Deep graven on his mind.\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. XXV. The Pinks and Arbutus._]\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. XXVI. The Cockscomb & Sweetwilliam._]\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XXV.\n\nThe PINKS and ARBUTUS.\n\n\nI.\n\n Virtue, the growth of ev\u2019ry clime,\n Alike should be rever\u2019d;\n Whether from distant regions brought,\n Or in _our_ country rear\u2019d.\n\n\nII.\n\n Rome, the great mistress of the world,\n Such height had ne\u2019er attain\u2019d;\n The train of worth in ev\u2019ry land\n Had her proud sons disdain\u2019d.\n\n\nIII.\n\n From _foreign_ arms, from _foreign_ arts,\n Her _native_ glory rose;\n And more than half her boasted state\n She borrow\u2019d from her foes.\n\n\nIV.\n\n Vain is that boast of selfish pride,\n Which deems no worth is found,\n But in the narrow sphere confin\u2019d\n Of its own native ground.\n\n\nV.\n\n Though not to foreign lands, untaught,\n We need for Virtue roam;\n Yet real Virtue, nurs\u2019d abroad,\n Should be rever\u2019d at home.\u2014\n\n\nVI.\n\n On fair Ierne\u2019s happy shore\n A tall ARBUTUS plac\u2019d,\n Bloom\u2019d near a sweetly-cultur\u2019d spot,\n By PINKS unnumber\u2019d grac\u2019d,\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u2019Twas on the border of that lake[24],\n Where vary\u2019d prospects rise,\n Of sunny hills, o\u2019er-hanging rocks,\n And low\u2019ring misty skies;\n\n[24] The Lake of Killarney, most romantically situated in the county of\nKerry, in Ireland, where the Arbutus tree is found, which bears a most\nbeautiful blossom, and a fruit sometimes used for food, and which is\nsupposed to have been transplanted thither from Italy.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n SELINA, wand\u2019ring near the Lake,\n The foreign tree survey\u2019d;\n \u201cAnd bloom\u2019st thou \u2019midst our native Flow\u2019rs?\u201d\n Exclaim\u2019d the redd\u2019ning maid\u2014\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cO could these hands thy root remove!\n \u201cBut since that may not be,\n \u201cFar I\u2019ll transplant my fragrant Race,\n \u201cNow plac\u2019d too near to thee.\u201d\n\n\nX.\n\n She said\u2014when strait before her stood\n An ancient Hermit grave;\n With silver\u2019d locks and streaming beard,\n The tenant of the cave;\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cDesist, fond maid! the Hermit cry\u2019d,\n \u201cLest these thy favour\u2019d flow\u2019rs\n \u201cShould die, if hastily remov\u2019d\n \u201cFrom these their well-known bow\u2019rs;\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cWhat if the tall ARBUTUS share\n \u201cTh\u2019 indulgence of thy land;\n \u201cDo not his sweetly fragrant flow\u2019rs\n \u201cAs fair a lot demand?\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cNor let IERNE\u2019S children grieve,\n \u201cWhere foreign worth is shown;\n \u201cBut learn with cultivating care\n \u201cTo make that worth _their own_.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n \u201cFor thee, fair maid\u2014the patriot flame\n \u201cStill nourish in thy breast:\n \u201cBut let that flame by Reason\u2019s rules\n \u201cBe modell\u2019d and repress\u2019d.\n\n\nXV.\n\n \u201cKnow that thy country\u2019s weal depends\n \u201cNot on _herself_ alone;\n \u201cBut each assisting hand that strives\n \u201cTo fix fair Freedom\u2019s throne.\n\n\nXVI.\n\n \u201cCommerce and Stores from other lands\n \u201cYour glories still increase;\n \u201cEncourage then the golden stream,\n \u201cAnd ev\u2019ry art of peace.\n\n\nXVII.\n\n \u201cNor foreign Flow\u2019rs, nor foreign Plants,\n \u201cDeny a fost\u2019ring place;\n \u201cWhen those fair Plants or blooming Flow\u2019rs\n \u201cBring Profit, Sweet, or Grace.\n\n\nXVIII.\n\n \u201cReject alone the idle weed,\n \u201cThat blooms but to destroy;\n \u201cTo cultivate the rest with care\n \u201cYour utmost skill employ.\u201d\n\n\nXIX.\n\n He ceas\u2019d;\u2014the Nymph her task forsook,\n And still together bloom\n The beautous Tree, and fragrant Flow\u2019rs,\n Whence ZEPHYRS steal perfume.\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XXVI.\n\nThe COCK\u2019S COMB and SWEET WILLIAM.\n\n\nI.\n\n High rose the Sun, the fleeting hours\n Verg\u2019d tow\u2019rds meridian height,\n And all around the glitt\u2019ring scene\n Was lost in floods of light.\n\n\nII.\n\n The flocks and herds, that graz\u2019d awhile,\n Now left the sunny glade;\n And in the stream their fervour cool\u2019d,\n Or sought the shelt\u2019ring shade.\n\n\nIII.\n\n Beneath a high projected fence,\n At this irradiate hour,\n The sweet _Dianthus_[25] humbly blew,\n A solitary Flow\u2019r.\n\n[25] Another name for Sweet William.\n\n\nIV.\n\n But where a thousand mingling sweets\n Diffus\u2019d a rich perfume;\n The gaudy COCK\u2019S COMB, idly vain,\n Appear\u2019d in all its bloom.\n\n\nV.\n\n And \u201cMatchless excellence!\u201d he cry\u2019d,\n \u201cWith ME what can compare?\n \u201cThe sweetest of the vernal train\n \u201cWere never half so fair.\n\n\nVI.\n\n \u201cMy crested head erect I rear,\n \u201cAnd bloom with matchless grace;\n \u201cThe brightest hue my leaves adorns,\n \u201cOf all the flow\u2019ry race.\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cNay, to immortal pow\u2019rs a-kin,\n \u201cDescent from Heav\u2019n I claim[26];\n \u201cAnd from eternal-blooming Flow\u2019rs\n \u201cDerive my honour\u2019d name.\u201d\n\n[26] This Flower is a kind of Bastard Amaranth.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n I view\u2019d the Plant, its form admir\u2019d;\n When a more modest Flow\u2019r\n Engag\u2019d my eye, where soft it rose\n Within its lonely bow\u2019r.\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cSweet tribes, (he sang,) fair FLORA\u2019S care,\n \u201cWhat beauties you display!\n \u201cMy breast expands with social joy\n \u201cTo see your bright array.\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cTo _me_, the last of flow\u2019rets, give,\n \u201cWithin this pale to grow:\n \u201cAnd give the west winds gentle breath\n \u201cO\u2019er this my bed to blow.\u201d\n\n\nXI.\n\n He spoke\u2014the pow\u2019rs indulgent heard,\n Soft ZEPHYRS fann\u2019d the trees;\n And o\u2019er his humble earthy bed\n Diffus\u2019d a gentle breeze.\n\n\nXII.\n\n Smit with the fragrance of the scent\n The winds rejoicing bore;\n I own\u2019d the pow\u2019r of modest worth,\n Whose rival charm\u2019d no more[27].\n\n\nXIII.\n\n Say, Fair-ones, is the Moral plain,\n In easy Fable drest?\n It is but this\u2014_To Merit true,_\n _Throw Coxcombs from your breast_.\n\n[27] The Cock\u2019s Comb being a gaudy Flower, without any agreeable smell\nto recommend it.\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. XXVII. The Jasmine and Hemlock._]\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. XXVIII. The Carnation and Southernwood._]\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XXVII.\n\nThe JASMINE and HEMLOCK.\n\n\nI.\n\n Tow\u2019ring aloft, a JASMINE sweet\n In a rich garden stood;\n And thence, nurs\u2019d by wild Nature\u2019s care,\n The neighb\u2019ring HEMLOCK view\u2019d.\n\n\nII.\n\n High o\u2019er the pale the angry flow\u2019r\n Rear\u2019d her affronted head;\n And, glowing in her vernal bloom,\n She thus contemptuous said:\n\n\nIII.\n\n \u201cSay, worse than Aconite, pernicious weed!\n \u201cHow dar\u2019st thou here to grow;\n \u201cAnd thy detested head advance,\n \u201cNear where my blossoms blow?\u201d\n\n\nIV.\n\n The angry HEMLOCK strait reply\u2019d,\n \u201cThou proud insulting thing!\n \u201cVain is thy pride, and vain thy boast,\n \u201cThough deck\u2019d by gaudy Spring.\n\n\nV.\n\n \u201cThou, in the blooming garden plac\u2019d,\n \u201cMay\u2019st please the roving eye.\n \u201cI in some field or secret shade\n \u201cMy useful aid supply.\n\n\nVI.\n\n \u201cNay, scornful flow\u2019r! what I declare,\n \u201cGreat Nature\u2019s self will own:\n \u201cOrdaining all things fair and good,\n \u201cWhen once their use is known.\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cGo ask of genial BACCHUS\u2019 tree,\n \u201cWhere purple clusters glow;\n \u201c(Whose juice produces gen\u2019rous wine,\n \u201cThe balm of human woe.)\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cGo ask what various ills attend,\n \u201cThat precious balm\u2019s abuse:\n \u201cIlls that too surely ev\u2019n exceed\n \u201cThose of my baneful juice.\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cYet baneful _where_? when _mis-apply\u2019d_;\n \u201cSo is each blessing too.\n \u201cThis lesson learn, and know thyself;\n \u201cNor rob me of my due.\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cMe the grave Leech, who, greatly wise,\n \u201cTurns Nature\u2019s volume o\u2019er,\n \u201cOft snatches from my low abode,\n \u201cAnd places in his store.\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cThere, amongst health-bestowing plants,\n \u201cHe ranks my honour\u2019d name;\n \u201cAnd, whilst he well employs _my_ pow\u2019rs,\n \u201cExalts _himself_ to fame.\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cThus death and life alike are _mine_,\n \u201cNeither to _thee_ belong:\n \u201cThough oft\u2019 by poets most admir\u2019d,\n \u201cThe theme of idle song.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cBe thou so still; but ne\u2019er despise\n \u201cThose gifts thou canst not share:\n \u201cBut keep this maxim in thy heart,\n \u201c_The_ USEFUL _is the_ FAIR.\u201d\n\n\nXIV.\n\n She said\u2014abash\u2019d the JASMINE heard,\n And hung her drooping head;\n She saw, _That_ NATURE\u2019S _works were good_,\n And all her Boasting fled.\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XXVIII.\n\nThe CARNATION and SOUTHERNWOOD.\n\n\nI.\n\n Rich in a thousand beauteous dyes,\n The sweet CARNATION stood;\n While with a proud disdainful eye\n The SOUTHERNWOOD she view\u2019d.\n\n\nII.\n\n \u201cGreat is thy Pride,\u201d the flow\u2019r exclaim\u2019d,\n \u201cTo place thee near my side;\n \u201cFor ev\u2019n to grow in this retreat,\n \u201cArgues thy matchless pride.\n\n\nIII.\n\n \u201cSay, what art thou, thyself no flow\u2019r,\n \u201cThat dar\u2019st intrude thee here;\n \u201c\u2019Midst plants fit for a prince\u2019s bow\u2019r,\n \u201cFlow\u2019rs fit for kings to wear?\n\n\nIV.\n\n \u201cWhate\u2019er I am,\u201d the Plant reply\u2019d,\n \u201cMy post I well maintain;\n \u201cAnd chearful lend my needful aid,\n \u201cWhere thine, alas! were vain.\n\n\nV.\n\n \u201cSay, could thy flow\u2019rs of brightest dye\n \u201c_Infection\u2019s_ force withstand?\n \u201cAh! what could all thy beauties do,\n \u201cIf plagues laid waste the land?\n\n\nVI.\n\n \u201cMean as I am, the task is mine,\n \u201cTo purge th\u2019 unwholesome air;\n \u201cTo clear the brain, the blood refine,\n \u201cAnd seat HYGEIA[28] there.\n\n[28] The Goddess of Health.\n\n\nVII.\n\n \u201cNay farther still;\u2014thyself shalt own\n \u201cHow oft\u2019 I\u2019m join\u2019d with thee;\n \u201cAnd thy bright blossoms brighter bloom,\n \u201cBecause they\u2019re plac\u2019d by me.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cAre not the _various tints_, which deck\n \u201cThis scene, the Florist\u2019s pride?\n \u201cME then, imperious! venerate\n \u201cFor pow\u2019rs to thee deny\u2019d.\u2014\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cSay, if each warbler of the grove\n \u201cShould chuse the self-same strain;\n \u201cWould the tir\u2019d ear the concert please,\n \u201cOr wish to hear again?\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cNature, who made us what we are,\n \u201cDid diff\u2019rent gifts impart;\n \u201cAnd gave to all their portion due\n \u201cOf her all-plastic art.\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cContented then in diff\u2019rent spheres\n \u201cUnenvying let us move:\n \u201cFor this must still most grateful be\n \u201cTo THOSE who rule above.\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201c_Me_ let _thy_ sweetest fragrance grace,\n \u201cEv\u2019n from the early May;\n \u201cAnd _thee_ will _I_ in gardens fair\n \u201cWith sov\u2019reign balm repay.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cFor, thus united while we stand,\n \u201cWe need to ask no more;\n \u201cWhile mutually we take and give,\n \u201cWe double all our _store_.\u201d\n\n\nXIV.\n\n Prudent she said;\u2014her rival, pleas\u2019d,\n Adopts the smelling green;\n And one for _Use_, and one for _Show_,\n Together now are seen.\n\n\nXV.\n\n Learn hence, _That various talents giv\u2019n_\n _Mean variously to bless:_\n _And thus on mutual wants kind Heav\u2019n_\n _Builds mutual Happiness_.\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. XXIX. Field Flower & Rosemary._]\n\n[Illustration: _Fab. XXX. Judgement of the Flowers._]\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XXIX.\n\nThe ROSEMARY and FIELD FLOWER.\n\n\nI.\n\n Upon the fam\u2019d HYPANIS\u2019 banks,\n By chance, in days of yore,\n A tuft of Rosemary there grew,\n Which scented all the shore.\n\n\nII.\n\n And near at hand a Field-flow\u2019r rear\n Its variegated head;\n And view\u2019d full many a spacious track,\n With dreary desarts spread.\n\n\nIII.\n\n But where the river roll\u2019d its stream,\n Unnumber\u2019d insects swarm\u2019d;\n Which rose in myriads into life,\n By PH\u0152BUS\u2019 influence warm\u2019d[29].\n\n[29] On the banks of the river Hypanis, there is a sort of insect,\nwhose life is said only to extend from the rising to the setting of the\nsun.\n\n\nIV.\n\n The same revolving day that saw\n Their scene of life begun,\n Beheld them sink to dust again,\n With the declining sun.\n\n\nV.\n\n And one of these, at noon-tide hour,\n (The hardiest of his race)\n Urg\u2019d to the Field-flow\u2019r bright and gay\n His quick and eager pace.\n\n\nVI.\n\n But when no fragrant scent he found\n In that same flow\u2019r so bright;\n He to the sweeter Rosemary\n Immediate urg\u2019d his flight.\n\n\nVII.\n\n The _lasting_ aromatic plant,\n His speed with wonder view\u2019d;\n Advis\u2019d him other flow\u2019rs to seek,\n Nor on her spot intrude.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n \u201cAnd how can I for _thee_ (she said)\n \u201cMy happier pow\u2019rs display,\n \u201cOr with my lasting flow\u2019r support\n \u201cThe insect of a day?\n\n\nIX.\n\n \u201cSure Nature form\u2019d thy race in sport,\n \u201cContinual to destroy;\n \u201cNor ever meant thy race to taste\n \u201cOne pure, substantial joy.\u201d\n\n\nX.\n\n \u201cNot so,\u201d the wiser Insect cry\u2019d,\n \u201cMy high descent I claim\n \u201cFrom PH\u0152BUS\u2019 self\u2014you cannot more,\n \u201cNor wish a higher name.\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cWhat if to me a shorter date\n \u201cBy Nature\u2019s law is giv\u2019n;\n \u201cEach moment that I live, _t\u2019 enjoy_,\n \u201cIs all I ask of Heav\u2019n.\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cBeneath the Mushroom\u2019s spacious shade,\n \u201cOr in the mossy bow\u2019r,\n \u201cOr still at noon as _now_ reclin\u2019d,\n \u201cBeneath some fragrant flow\u2019r.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cKnow, that as much of life I trace\n \u201cIn one revolving sun;\n \u201cAs yonder herds, whose destin\u2019d course\n \u201cFull many an age has run.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n \u201cFor equal are great Nature\u2019s gifts,\n \u201cAnd but an idle dream;\n \u201cThe boast of time, which glides away\n \u201cSwift as the passing stream.\n\n\nXV.\n\n \u201cWell to employ the present hour,\n \u201cSweet plant, be ever thine;\n \u201cLIFE\u2019S little day, _when once elaps\u2019d_,\n \u201c_Shall seem as short as_ MINE.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nFABLE XXX.\n\nThe JUDGEMENT of FLOWERS.\n\n\nI.\n\n Far from the busy haunts of men,\n Far from the glaring eye of day;\n Still Fancy paints, with Nature\u2019s pen,\n Such tints as never can decay.\n\n\nII.\n\n Hast thou not seen, at ev\u2019ning hour,\n When PH\u0152BUS sunk beneath the main,\n Reclin\u2019d in some sequester\u2019d bow\u2019r,\n The village maid, or shepherd swain?\n\n\nIII.\n\n Hast thou not mark\u2019d them cull with care\n Some favour\u2019d flow\u2019ret from the rest,\n To deck the breast, or bind the hair,\n Of those they priz\u2019d and lov\u2019d the best?\n\n\nIV.\n\n And still expressive of the mind\n The emblematic gift was found;\n Whether to mournful thought inclin\u2019d,\n Or with triumphant gladness crown\u2019d.\u2014\n\n\nV.\n\n Near AVON\u2019S banks, a cultur\u2019d spot,\n With many a tuft of flow\u2019rs adorn\u2019d,\n Was once an aged shepherd\u2019s lot,\n Who scenes of greater splendor scorn\u2019d.\n\n\nVI.\n\n Three beauteous daughters bless\u2019d his bed,\n Who made the little plat their care;\n And ev\u2019ry sweet by FLORA spread\n Attentive still they planted there.\n\n\nVII.\n\n Once, when still ev\u2019ning veil\u2019d the sky,\n The sire walk\u2019d forth, and sought the bow\u2019r;\n And bade the lovely maids draw nigh,\n And each select some favour\u2019d flow\u2019r.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n The first, with radiant splendor charm\u2019d,\n A variegated Tulip chose:\n The next, with love of beauty charm\u2019d,\n Preferr\u2019d the sweetly-blushing Rose.\n\n\nIX.\n\n The third, who mark\u2019d, with depth of thought,\n How those bright Flow\u2019rs must droop away,\n An Ev\u2019ning Primrose only brought,\n Which opens with the closing day.\n\n\nX.\n\n The sage a while in silence view\u2019d\n The various choice of flow\u2019rs display\u2019d;\n And then (with wisdom\u2019s gift endu\u2019d)\n Address\u2019d each beauteous list\u2019ning maid!\n\n\nXI.\n\n \u201cWho chose the Tulip\u2019s splendid dyes,\n \u201cShall own, too late, when that decays,\n \u201cThat, vainly proud, not greatly wise,\n \u201cShe only caught a short-liv\u2019d blaze.\n\n\nXII.\n\n \u201cThe Rose, though beauteous leaves and sweet\n \u201cIts glorious vernal pride adorn:\n \u201cLet her who chose beware to meet\n \u201cThe biting sharpness of its thorn.\n\n\nXIII.\n\n \u201cBut _she_, who to fair day-light\u2019s train\n \u201cThe Ev\u2019ning flow\u2019r more just preferr\u2019d;\n \u201cChose real worth, nor chose in vain\n \u201cThe one great object of regard.\n\n\nXIV.\n\n \u201cAmbitious _thou_! the Tulip race\n \u201cIn all life\u2019s vary\u2019d course beware:\n \u201cCaught with sweet Pleasure\u2019s rosy grace,\n \u201cDo _thou_ its sharper thorns beware.\n\n\nXV.\n\n \u201c_Thou_ prudent still to Virtue\u2019s lore,\n \u201cAttend, and mark her counsels sage!\n \u201cShe like _thy flow\u2019r_ has sweets in store,\n \u201cTo soothe the ev\u2019ning of thine age.\u201d\n\n\nXVI.\n\n He ceas\u2019d\u2014attend the moral strain,\n The Muse enlighten\u2019d pours;\n Nor let her pencil trace in vain\n The Judgement of the Flow\u2019rs.\n\n\nFINIS.\n\n\n\n\n _This Day is published_,\n\n\n For the Use of Young Ladies Boarding Schools,\n Price only Two Shillings, bound in Red,\n Dedicated, by Permission, to the Right Honourable\n Lady ELIZABETH KERR,\n CHOICE EMBLEMS,\n Natural, Historical, Fabulous Moral,\n and Divine,\n For the Improvement and Pastime of Youth.\n\n Embellished with near Fifty Allegorical Devices: With\n pleasing and familiar Descriptions to each, in\n Prose and Verse.\n\n The whole calculated to convey the golden Lessons of\n Instruction, under a new and more delightful Dress.\n\n By the AUTHOR of FABLES OF FLOWERS.\n\n \u201cSay, should the philosophic mind disdain\n \u201cThat good, which makes each humbler bosom vain?\n \u201cLet school-taught Pride dissemble all it can,\n \u201cThese little Things are great to little Man.\u201d\n\n The Editor of the British Magazine for the Month\n of April last observes, that \u201cthe Language of the\n above ingenious Performance is easy; the Allegories\n well chosen; the Instruction useful and important;\n and the Whole, properly calculated to make a deep and\n lasting Impression on the soft and ductile Minds of\n Youth.\u2014\u2014At the same Time, that many of maturer Age\n may read it with Pleasure and Profit.\u201d For a more\n particular Examination of its approved Merit, see the\n Town and Country and Wheble\u2019s Lady\u2019s Magazine for\n January; the Monthly and Critical Review for April\n last, &c. &c.\n\n _N. B. An elegant Edition of the above Book is\n preparing for the Press, with the Addition of near\n Fifty new Emblems, never before published, all written\n by the same Author, which will be ornamented with near\n One Hundred beautiful Copper-plates, engraved in the\n most masterly Stile._\n\n\n Books Printed for G. RILEY, in May Fair.\n\n _This Day is Published_,\n In Two Volumes, price 5s. sewed, or 6s. bound,\n\n Dedicated to Their Royal Highnesses GEORGE\n AUGUSTUS FREDERICK, Prince of Wales;\n and Prince FREDERICK, Bishop of Osnaburgh.\n\n THE VIZIRS;\n OR, THE\n INCHANTED LABYRINTH,\n\n An Oriental Tale.\n\n By the AUTHOR of that much admired performance, The WAR\n of the BEASTS, The TRANSMIGRATION of HERMES, ABBASSAI,\n &c. &c.\n\n For an account of this Ingenious Lady\u2019s Literary\n Productions, see The History of the Illustrious Women\n of France, lately published.\n\n [Illustration]\n\n The Second Edition,\n\n Printed in Quarto, on superfine Paper, price 2s.\n\n The ENGLISH GARDEN, a Poem,\n\n By W. MASON, M. A.\n Book the First.\n\n _This Day is Published_, Price 4s. bound.\n\n The Court and Country\n Confectioner:\n OR,\n The HOUSE-KEEPER\u2019S GUIDE\n\n To a more speedy, plain, and familiar method of\n understanding the whole art of confectionary,\n pastry, distilling, and the making of\n fine-flavoured English wines from all kinds of\n fruits, herbs, and flowers; comprehending near five\n hundred easy and practical receipts, never before\n made known: particularly,\n\n PRESERVING.\n CANDYING.\n ICING.\n TRANSPARENT MARMALADE.\n ORANGE.\n PINE-APPLE.\n PISTACHIO, and other Rich Creams.\n CARAMEL.\n PASTILS.\n BOMBOONS.\n SYRUPS.\n PUFF, SPUN, and FRUIT-PASTES.\n LIGHT-BISCUITS.\n PUFFS.\n RICH SEED-CAKES.\n CUSTARDS.\n SYLLABUBS.\n FLUMMERIES.\n TRIFLES, WHIPS, FRUITS,\n and other JELLIES.\u2014PICKLES, &c.\n\n Also new and easy directions for clarifying the\n different degrees of sugar, together with several\n bills of fare of deserts for private gentlemens\n families.\n\n A NEW EDITION.\n\n To which is added, a dissertation on the different\n species of fruits, and the art of distilling simple\n waters, cordials, perfumed oils, and essences.\n\n By Mr. BORELLA, now Head Confectioner to the\n Spanish Ambassador in England.\n\n\n\n\n _This Day are published_,\n\n Price Five Shillings and Three Pence in\n Boards,\n\n The FIRST and SECOND VOLUMES\n\n Of an entire new and useful Work,\n\n Dedicated, by Permission, to His Grace HUGH Duke of\n NORTHUMBERLAND,\n\n Calculated for the Advantage and Instruction of the\n Botanist, the Country Gentleman, the Nursery-man\n and Gardener,\n\n Illustrated with Copper-plates, and a copious Botanical Glossary.\n\n THE\n UNIVERSAL BOTANIST\n AND\n NURSERY-MAN.\n\n Containing descriptions of the species and varieties\n of all the trees, shrubs, herbs, flowers, and fruits,\n natives and exotics, at present cultivated in the European\n nurseries, green-houses, and stoves, or described by modern\n botanists; arranged according to the Linn\u00e6an system, with\n their names in English.\n\n To which are added,\n\n Catalogues of the flowers raised by the most eminent\n florists in Europe; with their names, colours, and prices,\n translated into English: as well as a list of the most\n esteemed fruits: particularly those raised in the nursery\n of the Carthusians in Paris.\n\n The whole to be completed in Four Volumes.\n By RICHARD WESTON, Esq;\n\n _Hic ver perpetuum, atque alienis mensibus \u00e6stas._\n VIRG.\n\n Printed for GEORGE RILEY, Bookseller, May Fair;\n and C. ETHERINGTON, at York.\n\n The Third and Fourth Volumes are in the Press, and will\n be published in a few days.\n\n _By the same Author_,\n\n Handsomely printed in Quarto, Price 2s. 6d. with\n Allegorical Designs, engraved in the most beautiful\n and picturesque Style by Mr. WHITE,\n\n THE\n FOUR SEASONS.\n A POEM.","title":"Fables of Flowers for the Female Sex. With Zephyrus and Flora, a Vision","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":15823}