FLORA AND THALIA. 95 



THE QUINCE TREE. 



I HAD a little comely cot, 



As neat as cottage well could be ; 

 And near it rose a garden-plot, 



Where flourished one delightful tree ; 



Ah ! 'twas a tree of trees to me ! 



Its crooked branches o'er my head, 

 Waved wide, an arched canopy ; 



And its bright leaves benignly spread 

 A fan of green embroidery, 

 That shaded all my family. 



It was a screen from wind or sun, 



A veil from curiosity ; 

 And when its summer bloom was gone, 



We still could feast with social glee, 



On its autumnal fruitery. 



E'en Winter oft has seen it gay. 



With fretted frost-work spangled o'er ; 



While pendants drooped from every spray. 

 And crimson budlets told once more, 

 That Spring would all its charms restore ! 



