fables of flora. 
55 
The Flaxflower quietly replied, 
With pardonable zeal and pride, 
< Thy face is bright, indeed; 
But Nature, if less kind to me 
In outward wealth and brilliancy, 
Has given me the power to be 
Useful to those in need. 
‘ I furnish garments for the poor, 
And decorate the humblest door; 
The dame in yonder shed, 
While standing ’neath the straw-thatched eaves, 
Within the shadow of the leaves, 
My fibres into linen weaves, 
And sells it for her bread. 
‘ But as for thee, thou boasting flower, 
Thy beauty withers in an hour; 
And then, despised and doomed, 
Thou ’rt cast upon the chaffy pyre — 
The gardener gives thee to the fire, 
While those who now thy charms admire, 
Forget thou ’st ever bloomed.’ 
