274 
FABLES OF FLOWERS. 
But, ah ! no more the flower could say ; 
For, while she spoke, a transient breeze 
Came rustling through the neighbouring trees, 
And bore her boasted charms away. 
And such, said I, is Beauty’s power! 
Like thee she falls, poor trifling flower ; 
And, if she lives her little day. 
Life’s winter comes with rapid pace. 
And robs her form of every grace, 
And steals her bloom away. 
But in thy form, thou Laurel green, 
Fair Virtue’s semblance soon is seen. 
In life she cheers each different stage. 
Spring’s transient reign, and Summer’s glow 
And Autumn mild, advancing slow. 
And lights the eye of age. 
THE IIOT-HOUSE ROSE. 
MRS. C. SMITH. 
An early rose borne from her genial bower, 
Met the fond homage of admiring eyes, 
And while young Zephyr fann’d the lovely 
flower. 
Nature and Art contended for the prize. 
