FABLES OF FLOWERS. 
271 
Rhodum Sidum, I’ll call it, a beautiful name, 
When botanists look through their glasses and 
view 
Its beauties, they’ll never suspect that it grew 
Under a hedge.” 
The little pet plant when it shook off the dirt 
Of its own native ditch, began to grow pert, 
And tossed its small head, for perceiving that 
none 
But exotics were roundit, it thought itself one ; 
As a field-flower all would have cried it was 
fair, 
And praised it, through gaudier blossoms were 
there; 
But when it assumes hot-house airs we see 
through 
The forced tint of its leaves, and suspect that 
it grew 
Under a hedge. 
In the bye-ways of life, oh ! how many there 
are, 
Who being born under some fortunate star, 
Assisted by talent or beauty, grow rich 
And bloom in a hot-house instead of a ditch! 
And while they disdain not their own simple 
stem, 
