FABLES OF FLORA. 71 
Attentive to our trifling selves, 
From thence we plan the rule of all; 
Thus Nature with the fabled elves 
We rank, and these her sports we call. 
Be far, my friends, from you, from me, 
The unhallowed term, the thought profane, 
That life’s majestic source may be 
In idle Fancy’s trifling vein. 
Remember still’t is Nature’s plan 
Religion in your love to find ; 
And know, for this, she first in man 
Inspired the imitative mind. 
As conscious that affection grows, 
Pleased with the pencil’s mimic power; 
That power with leading hand she shows, 
And paints a bee upon a flower. 
Mark, how that rooted mandrake wears 
His human feet, his human hands 1 
Oft as his shapely form he rears, 
Aghast the frighted ploughman stands. 
See where, in yonder orient stone, 
She seems e’en with herself at strife, 
While fairer from her hand is shown 
The pictured, than the native life. 
