212 
THE ENCHANTED PLANT 8. 
Goddess ! in radiant glories dressed, 
Let me henceforth appear, 
By summer’s brightest beams caressed. 
Nor wait the closing year.” 
Ungrateful tribe !”—with angry pause, 
The indignant Goddess cries, 
(i Not in the season’s wholesome laws, 
Your cause of grievance lies. 
4< Spoiled by prosperity, ye pine, 
Like many a pampered fair; 
But wo to all, should I incline, 
And grant to each her prayer. 
“ So nicely are your hours arranged, • 
To every season linked. 
That Nature’s laws one moment changed. 
Your race would be extinct.” 
She spoke ; then bade the blast arise, 
Pier message to convey; 
Boreas, swift rushing through the skies. 
Swept all their sighs away. 
