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the enchanted plants. 
The Chestnut, indignant and proud, 
Frowned, as if he both parties despised, 
And shaking his branches aloud, 
In few words This pretensions comprised. 
“ Sweet Flowret,” (he flattered the sex) 
“ I perceive my protection’s required. 
And lament yonder coxcomb should vex 
You, made to be loved and admired. 
te But no wonder he triumphs o’er you, 
Who ventures with Oaks to compare, 
They whose might Britain’s enemies rue. 
Who the glory of conquerors share. 
“ Let fo PS ring their own empty praises. 
Who true insignificance feel, 
Self-boasting but ridicule raises, 
Our merits let others reveal.” 
The furious Laburnum replied, 
The Chestnut retorted again, 
The flower with the strongest took side, 
Yet endeavored their rage to restrain. 
