FLORAL CEREMONIES. 
58 
“ Zephyr and Flora emulous conspire 
To breathe their graces o’er the field’s attire ; 
The one gives healthful freshness, one the hue, 
Fairer than e’er creative pencil drew. 
Pale as the lovesick hopeless maid they dye 
The modest violet ; from the curious eye : 
The modest violet turns her gentle head, 
And by the thorn weeps o’er her lowly bed : 
Bending beneath the tears of pearly dawn, 
The snow-white lily glitters o’er the lawn ; 
Lo ! from the bough reclines the damask rose, 
And o’er the lily’s milk-white bosom glows; 
Fresh in the dew, far o’er the painted dales, 
Each fragrant herb her sweetest scent exhales.” 
Camoens. 
We must now pause to describe how 
“ Pomona, fired with rival envy, views 
The glaring pride of Flora’s darling hues,” 
And endeavours to outvie their beauty and 
fragrance with her own luscious productions, 
but turn to the author of “ the Task,” — Listen 
to him ! — Oh, lady readers ! — 
The spleen is seldom felt where Flora reigns, 
The low’ring eye, the petulance, the frown, 
And sullen sadness that o’ershade, distort, 
And mar the face of beauty, when no cause 
For such immeasurable woe appears : 
