222 
THE ENCHANTED PLANTS* 
“ The genuine anguish of the heart, 
Nor tears, nor sobs, nor groans impart, 
Biitlike this deep and silent wave, 
Steals without murmur to the grave. 
To him, who pines with grief sincere, 
Like dreams of heavenly bliss appear, 
The fancied evils you deplore—” 
She paused—the Willow wept the more. 
FABLE v. 
CONTENTION. 
A Chestnut-tree laden with bloom, 
A Laburnum with boughs dropping gold, 
A Hyacinth breathing perfume, 
One Spring morning proceeded to scold. 
The cause of the quarrel averred, 
Was a doubt in an ill-fated hour, 
Which for beauty, by man is preferred, 
The Tree, or the Shrub, or the Flower. 
