THE ENCHANTED PLANTS. 211 



" Though bright my tints, perfumed my breath, 



Though cherished by the fair, 

 Though when I fade, even after death, 



My virtues honored are : 



(( Yet in my season, numerous powers 



Approach too near the throne ; 

 The embroidered garden, rich with flowers, 



Scarce will my empire own. 



t( If blushing to thy court I came, 



When autumn rules the day, 

 Then should I sovereign homage claim, 



And hold despotic sway." 



" Despotic sway, indeed !" replied 



The image of the sun ; 

 {t In June rejoice to curb thy pride, 



My reign is not begun. 



" Though native of a distant clime, 



No British bloom I boast ; 

 Yet know, proud plant ! my form sublime, 



Eclipses all thine host. 



