POETRY OP THE ROSE. 99 



The Rose soon redden'd into rage, 



And, swelling with disdain, 

 Appeal'd to many a poet's page 



To prove her right to reign. 



The Lily's height bespoke command, 



A fair, imperial flower ; 

 She seemed designed for Flora's hand, 



The sceptre of her power. 



This civil bickering and debate 



The goddess chanced to hear ; 

 And flew to save, ere yet too late, 



The pride of the parterre. 



" Yours is," she said, " the noblest hue, 



And yours the statelier mien ; 

 And till a third surpasses you, 

 Let each be deem'd a queen." 



Thus soothed and reconciled, both seek 



The fairest British fair ; 

 The seat of empire is her cheek, 



They reign united there. 



COWPER. 



THE ROSES. 



Two Roses on one slender stem 



In sweet communion grew, 

 Together hail'd the morning ray, 



And drank the evening dew ; 

 While, sweetly wreath'd in mossy green, 

 There sprang a little bud between. 



