FABLES OF FLOWEIiS. 
27o 
And hide in humble scenes thy head : 
How dost thou dare, 
Where roses are, 
Thy scents to shed ? 
Go leave my bower, and live unknown ; 
I’ll rule the field of flowers alone.” 
.... “ And dost thou think,”—the Laurel 
cried. 
And raised its head with modest pride. 
While on its little trembling tongue 
A drop of dew incumbent hung— 
“ And dost thou think I’ll leave this bower, 
The seat of many a friendly flower, 
The scene where first I grew 1 
Thy haughty reign will soon be o’er. 
And thy frail form will bloom no more ; 
My flower will finish too. 
Hut know, proud rose. 
When winter’s snows 
Shall fall where once thy beauties stood, 
My pointed leaf of shining green, 
Will still amid the gloom be seen, 
To cheer the leafless wood.” 
“ Presuming fool! ” the Wood Rose cried, 
And strove in vain her shame to hide ; 
