684 Vegetative Verses. JuNE, 



Meddlers, though on trees we've none, 



Now about our funds inquire ; 

 Sun-flow'rs die without a son ; 



Hyacinths will grow no higher. 

 These are facts we can't suppress 

 Who would be an F.H.S. ? 



Useless 'tis to see afar 



How the other gardens do ; 

 How the winds at Windsor are, 



How they mind their peas at Kew. 

 How we managed few can guess 

 Who would be an F.H.S. ? 



Oh ! the rainy, rural rout, 



When, half-starved amidst the shower. 



Dandy lions walked about 



Seeking what they might devour, 



Painted ladies, blue belles, press 



Who would be an F.H.S.? 



Thyme is fled, and o'er the scene 



Cots and chimneys will be found ; 

 Beans are things that once have been ; 



Groundsel gone, we'll sell the ground. 

 What is Robins's address? 

 Who would be an F.H.S.? 



^ 

 All is alter'd not a bough 



(Save the gardener's) marks the sppt; 

 O'er the cowslips slips a cow 



Winds may blow there, flowers will not. 

 Fashion, Honour, and Success, 

 Once were meant by F.H.S. ! 



But another tale they tell 



Since we fell so deep in debt 

 All our celery to sell, 



All our lettuces to let. 

 Folly, Hubbub, Sorrow yes, 

 These are meant by F.H.S. ! 



