Floral Poetry. 
Oh! hadst thou known the worth of Heaven’s rich gift, 
Thou would’st have turned it to a truer use, 
And not (with starved and covetous ignorance) 
Pined in continual eyeing that bright gem, 
The glance whereof to others had been more 
Than to thy famished mind the wide world’s store. 
Ben Jonson. 
THE N ARCISSU S. 
Y_Y ERE young Narcissus o’er the fountain stood, 
And viewed his image in the crystal flood; 
The crystal flood reflects his lovely charms, 
And the pleased image strives to meet his arms. 
No nymph his inexperienced breast subdued, 
Echo in vain the flying boy pursued. 
Himself alone the foolish youth admires, 
And with fond look the smiling shade desires ; 
O’er the smooth lake with fruitless tears he grieves; 
His spreading fingers shoot in verdant leaves ; 
Through his pale veins green sap now gently flows, 
And in a short-lived flower his beauty blows. 
Let vain Narcissus warn each female breast, 
That beauty’s but a transient good at best; 
Like flowers it withers with the advancing year, 
And age, like Winter, robs the blooming fair. 
& 
Gay. 
