THE ENCHANTED PLANT 8. 
219 
She who the orphan’s tear neglects, 
Flavia, the tragic muse affects, 
In sorrow with the heroine vies— 
Does Flavia feel, because she cries! 
While love-lorn nymphs, whom vows deceive, 
Unmoved, their roof paternal leave; 
Passion for sentiment mistake, 
And doom a parent’s heart to break. 
My fancy, wandering, uncontrolled, 
Once to the river’s side l strolled, 
When to my mind these thoughts occurred, 
Wakened by plaintive sounds I heard. 
The breeze was gentle as my theme, 
And Cynthia mild as poet’s dream; 
And hushed was every leafy spray, 
Save the sad subject of my lay. 
A Willow, bending o’er the flood, 
Her leaves just starting from the bud, 
Like bird of night, I heard complain. 
In moping melancholy strain. 
