88 FABLES OF FLORA. 
The beauteous flower, with pride elate, 
(Ah me! what pride with beauty dwells!) 
Vainly affects superior state, 
And thus in empty fancy swells. 
* O, lustre of unrivalled bloom. 
Fair painting of a hand divine ! 
Superior far to mortal doom, 
The hues of heaven alone are mine! 
‘Away, ye worthless, formless race! 
Ye weeds, that boast the name of flowers! 
No more my native bed disgrace, 
Unmeet for tribes so mean as yours! 
‘ Shall the bright daughter of the sun 
Associate with the shrubs of earth? 
Ye slaves, your sovereign’s presence shun! 
Respect her beauties and her birth. 
‘ And thou, dull, sullen evergreen! 
Shalt thou my shining sphere invade ? 
My noonday beauties beam unseen, 
Obscured beneath thy dusky shade ? ’ 
‘ Deluded flower! ’ the Myrtle cries, 
‘ Shall we thy moment’s bloom adore ? 
The meanest shrub that you despise, 
The meanest flower has merit more. 
