TnE CAPTIVE AND THE PL 
OWERS. 517 
Far round the tower I send mine eye, 
The tower so steep and tall; 
But non here can the flower descry 
From this high castle wall; 
And him who’ll bring me my desire, 
Or be he knight, or be he squire, 
My dearest friend I’ll call. 
ROSE. 
My blossoms near thee I disclose, 
And hear thy wretched plight; 
T hou meanest me, no doubt, the Rose, 
Thou noble, hapless knight. 
A lofty mind in thee is seen, 
And in thy bosom reigns the queen 
01 flowers, as is her right. 
CAPTIVE. 
Thy crimson bud I duly prize 
In outer robe of green; 
For this thou’rt dear in maiden’s eyes, 
As gold and jewels’ sheen. 
Thy wreath adorns the fairest brow, 
And yet the flower—it is not thou, 
Whom my still wishes mean. 
^ • - 'Ni 
LILY. 
The little Rose has cause for pride, 
And upwards aye will soar; 
Yet am I held by many a bride 
The Rose’s wreath before. 
