





March 1, the Spurge Laurel (Daphne Laureola) flowers. 



This beautiful Evergreen, a native of our happy island, and of the other parts of Europe, 

 resembling the palm-tree in miniature, early puts forth its flowers, and as if by mtenfon, these 

 are of a pale dull green, to give more dignity to its leaves aud berries, destmed to crown the 

 brow of the warrior victorious in his country's cause, or the poet, who chants these v.ctor.es, 

 or sings the attributes of Plants. 



The earliest of Apollo's loves was she, 

 Whom not blind Fortune, but the dire decree 

 Of angry Cupid, forc'd him to desire: 

 Daphne her name, and Peneus was her sire. 

 Swell'd with the pride, that new success attends, 

 He sees the stripling, while his bow he bends, 

 And thus insults him: " Thou lascivious Boy, 

 " Are arms like these for children to employ? 

 " Know, such atchievements are my proper claim; 

 " Due to my vigour, and unerring aim: 

 " Resistless are my shafts, and Python late, 

 " In such a feather'd death, has found his fate. 

 " Take up the torch, and lay my weapons by." 



To whom the son of Venus thus replied. 

 PHffiBUS, thy shafts are sure on all beside, 

 But mine on Phojbus, mine the fame shall be 

 On all thy conquests, when I conquer thee." 

 He said, and soaring, swiftly wing'd his flight; 

 Nor stopt but on Parnassus' airy height. 

 Two diff'rent shafts he from his quiver draws; 

 One to repel desire, and one to cause. 

 One shaft is pointed with refulgent gold, 

 To bribe the love, and make the lover bold ; 

 One blunt, and tipt with lead, whose base allay 

 Provokes disdain, and drives desire away. 

 The blunted bolt against the Nymph he drest; 

 But with the sharp transfixt Apollo's breast. 

 Th' enamour'd Deity pursues the chace; 

 The scornful damsel shuns his loath'd embrace ; 

 In hunting beasts of prey her youth employs; 

 And Phojbus rivals in her rural joys. 

 With naked neck she goes, and shoulders bare; 

 And with a fillet binds her flowing hair. 

 By many suitors sought, she mocks their pains, 

 And still her vow'd virginity maintains. 

 Impatient of a yoke, the name of bride 

 She shuns, and hates the joys she never tried. 

 On wilds, and woods, she fixes her desire: 

 Nor knows what youth, and kindly love, inspire. 



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