272 
FABLES OF FLOWERS. 
The honours they grasp may gain honours for 
them ; 
But when like the pet plant such people grow 
pert, 
We soon trace them to their original dirt 
Under a hedge. 
FABLE OF THE WOOD-llOSE AND 
THE LAUREL. 
ANON. 
In these deep shades a floweret blows, 
Whose leaves a thousand sweets disclose : 
With modest air it hides its charms. 
And every breeze its leaves alarms j 
Turns on the ground its bashful eyes, 
And oft unknown, neglected dies. 
This flower, as late I careless strayed, 
I saw in all its charms arrayed. 
Fast by the spot where low it grew, 
A proud and flaunting Wood-Rose blew. 
With haughty air her head she raised, 
And on the beauteous plant she gazed. 
While struggling passion swelled her breast, 
She thus her kindling rage expressed :— 
“ Thou worthless flower, 
Go leave my bower. 
