THE FABLES OF FLORA. 55 



** From thee be far th' ungentle deed, 

 *' The honours of the dead to spoil, 



" Or take the sole remaining meed, 



" The flower that crowns their former toill 



" Nor deem that flower the garden's foe, 

 " Or fond to grace this barren shade; 



" *Tis Nature tells her to bestow 

 *' Her honours on the lonely dead. 



" For this, obedient Zephyrs bear 



" Her light seeds round yon turret's mold, 



" And undispersed by tempests there, 

 " They rise in vegetable gold. 



" Nor shall thy wonder wake to see 

 " Such desart scenes distinction crave; 



" Oft they have been, and oft shall be 

 " Truth's, Honour's, Valour's, Beauty's grave. 



