8 FABLES OF FLORA. 
>T was thus, of old, a poet prayed; 
Th’ indulgent power his prayer approved; 
And, ere the gathered Rose could fade, 
Restored him to the scenes he loved. 
A Rose, the poet’s favorite flower, 
From Flora’s cultured walks he bore ; 
No fairer bloomed in Esher’s bower, 
Nor Prior’s charming Chloe wore. 
No fairer flowers could fancy twine 
To hide Anacreon’s snowy hair ; 
For there Almeria’s bloom divine, 
And Elliot’s sweetest blush was there. 
When she, the pride of courts, retires, 
And leaves, for shades, a nation’s love, 
With awe the village maid admires, 
How Waldegrave looks, how Waldegrave 
moves. 
So marvelled much, in Enon’s shade, 
The flowers, that all uncultured grew, 
When there the splendid Rose displayed 
Her swelling breast and shining hue. 
Yet one, that oft adorned the place, 
Where now her gaudy rival reigned, 
Of simpler bloom, but kindred race, 
The pensive Eglantine, complained. 
