ROSE. 155 



" Oh ! whence could such a plant have sprung ? 

 Attend — for thus the tale is sung : 

 When, humid from the silvery stream, 

 Venus appear'd, in flushing hues, 

 Mellow'd by Ocean's briny dews — 

 When, in the starry courts above, 

 The pregnant brain of mighty Jove 

 Disclosed the nymph of azure glance — 

 The nymph who shakes the martial lance ! 

 Then, then, in strange eventful hour, 

 The earth produced an infant flower, 

 Which sprung, with blushing tinctures drest, 

 And wanton'd o'er its parent's breast. 

 The gods beheld this brilliant birth, 

 And hail'd the rose — the boon of earth ! 

 With nectar drops, a ruby tide, 

 The sweetly-orient buds they dyed, 

 And bade them bloom, the flowers divine 

 Of him who sheds the teeming vine : 

 And bade them, on the spangled thorn 

 Expand their bosoms to the morn." Ode 55. 



Fabulous authors also account for the deli- 

 cious perfume of the rose, by telling us that 

 Love, in a feast of Olympus, in the midst of 

 the gaiety of a light and lively dance, over- 

 threw, with a stroke of his wing, a cup of 

 nectar, which precious liquor falling on the 

 rose, embalmed it with that heavenly fra- 

 grance which it still retains. 



The rose is said to have been originally 

 white, and its change of colour is thus ele- 

 gantly accounted for by the luxuriant imagin- 

 ation of Catullus. 



