210 THE ENCHANTED PLANTS. 



" Oh, hear a timid suppliant's prayer, 



Nymph of the blushing hours, 

 Incline, and rescue from despair, 



The most forlorn of Flowers ! 



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" Fair am I formed, and sweet 'tis true, 

 Thy favourite blue-eyed maid ; 



Each spring am fed with pearly dew, 

 But cloistered in the shade. 





 " Were I exalted on my stem, 



By solar beams inspired ; 

 What Pink, what Rose, what fragrant gem, 

 Like me would be admired ?" 



" How," cried, with royal pride, the Rose, 



(Betrayed by her petition, 

 Or else what mortal could suppose 



She liked not her condition ?) 



" Shall such mean reptiles dare complain, 



Sweet ruler of the year ! 

 While I, thy vice-queen, crowned in vain, 



Here shed the silent tear ? 



