218 THE ENCHANTED PLANTS. 



Damsels, profit by my story, 



Thus in unfashioned phrase rehearsed, 

 Prize your peace, and maiden glory, 



Nor love who loves not first. 



FABLE IT. 



SENSIBILITY. 



FEELING ! by words so ill defined, 



So lovely in an honest mind, 



How art thou grown in fashion's schools, 



The mask of vice, the cant of fools. 



How oft impatience, temper's storm, 

 For sanction grasps thy glowing form ! 

 How affectation, beauty's shame, 

 And weaknes^ prostitute thy name ! 



How oft, by songs and novels taught, 

 They who ne'er knew one generous thought 

 Their sensibilities reveal, 

 Sacred to such as truly feel. 



