268 
FABLES OF FLOWERS. 
And thou, dull, sullen evergreen, 
That dost my shining sphere invade. 
My noon-day beauties beam unseen. 
Obscure beneath thy dusky shade.” 
“ Deluded flower !” the myrtle cries, 
“ Shall we thy moment’s bloom adore ? 
The meanest shrub that you despise, 
The meanest flower has merit more. 
“ That daisy in its simple bloom. 
Shall last along the changing year. 
Blush on the snow of winter’s gloom. 
And bid the smiling spring appear. 
“ The violet, who those banks beneath 
Hides from thy scorn its modest head, 
Shall fill the air with fragrant breath, 
When thou art in thy dusty bed. 
“ Ev’n I who boast no golden shade— 
Am of no shining tints possest, 
When low thy lucid form is laid. 
Shall bloom on many a lovely breast. 
“ And He, whose kind and fostering care, 
To thee, to me, our beings gave, 
Shall near his breast my flow’rets wear 
And walk regardless o’er thy grave. 
