HEART' S-EASE. 
99 
When Sutherland was living ! Here they grew 
From blue to deeper blue, in midst of each 
A golden dazzle like a glimmering star, 
Each broader, bigger than a silver crown ; 
While here the weaver sat, his labour done, 
Watching his azure pets and rearing them 
Until they seemed to know his step and touch, 
And stir beneath his smile like living things ! 
The very sunshine loved them, and would lie 
Here happy, coming early, lingering late, 
Because they were so fair. 
HEART’S EASE. 
MRS. SHERIDAN. 
In gardens oft a beauteous flower there grows, 
By vulgar eyes unnoticed and unseen ; 
In sweet security it humbly blows, 
And rears its purple head to deck the green. 
This flower, as Nature’s poet sweetly sings, 
Was once milk-white, and Heart’s-ease was its name, 
Till wanton Cupid poised his roseate wings, 
A vestal’s sacred bosom to inflame. 
With treacherous aim the god his arrow drew, 
Which she with icy coldness did repel; 
Rebounding thence with feathery speed it flew, 
Till on this lonely flower at last it fell. 
Heart’s-ease no more the wandering shepherd found ; 
No more the nymphs its snowy form possess ; 
Its white now changed to purple by Love’s wound, 
Heart’s-ease no more,—’tis Love-in-idleness. 
