FABLES OF FLORA. 73 
‘ When thou art in the lonesome glen, 
Keep by the running bum, 
And do not pluck the Strawberry flower, 
Nor break the Lady-fern.’ 
Mary Howitt. 
We find in our American poetry these two 
tributes. 
‘ Upon the broken turf 
That clothes the fresher grave, the Strawberry vine 
Sprinkles its swell with blossoms, and lays forth 
Her ruddy, pouting fruit.’ W. C. Bryant. 
‘ On the warm hillside, where 
The sunlight lingers latest, through the grass 
Peepeth the luscious Strawberry.' 
W. H. Burleigh. 
FABLE XXI. 
The Strawberry Flower. 
One summer day, along the fields, 
I took my wonted morning walk, 
To breathe the sweets that summer yields, 
And hear the blossoms talk. 
I met a little strawberry flower, 
Half buried in the tall, green grass; 
It held me by some witching power, 
And would not let me pass. 
