42 THE FABLES OF FLORA. 



Should beauty's soul-enchanting smile. 

 Love-kindling looks, and features gay. 



Should these thy wandering eye beguile. 

 And steal thy wareless heart away; 



That heart shall soon with sorrow swell, 

 And soon the erring eye deplore. 



If in the beauteous bosom dwell 

 No gentle virtue's genial store. 



Far from his hive one summer-day 

 A young and yet unpractised bee. 



Borne on his tender v/ings away. 

 Went forth the flowery world to see. 



The morn, the noon, in play he passed. 

 But when the shades of evening came. 



No parent brought the due repast. 

 And faintness seized his little frame. 



