VULGARITY. 



FLORAL FABLE. 



ONE August morn, before the sun 

 Had reached his glorious height, 



What time, ere harvest is begun, 

 The corn-fields most delight. 



Snug by a hedge, o'erhung with trees, 

 Where blades less numerous grew, 



A nest of Poppies, placed at ease, 

 Conversed with Bottles blue. 



I wonder much,'* with rustic grace, 



A Poppy thus began, 

 Why our mild inoffensive race 



Is so despised by man. 

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