VANITY. 
239 
“Not even the queen of shrubs, the Rose, 
Can double gifts bestow, 
Useless her humble foliage blows, 
Though bright her petals glow.” 
This uttered with triumphant mien, 
Her light leaves swelled with pride; 
Child of the valley, mild, serene, 
The Lily thus replied : 
u Vain blossom, gem of transient doom 
Whence thy presumptuous boast ? 
That mid Spring’s yet unripened bloom, 
Thy charms are courted most. 
“ True, nature fixed with care divine 
Mid opening buds thy reign ; 
What place to thee could June assign 
Amid her thronging train ? 
u Where trees in full luxuriance grow, 
How vain thy boasted shade ! 
Where in bright ranks Carnations blow. 
How would thy faint hues fade ! 
