90 FABLES OF FLORA. 
Fierce on the flower the scorching beam 
With all its weight of glory fell; 
The flower, exulting, caught the gleam, 
And lent its leaves a bolder swell. 
Expanded by the searching fire, 
The curling leaves the breast disclosed; 
The mantling bloom was painted higher, 
And every latent charm exposed. 
But when the sun was sliding low, 
And evening came, with dews so cold, 
The wanton beauty ceased to blow, 
And sought her bending leaves to fold. 
Those leaves, alas! no more would close; 
Relaxed, exhausted, sickening, pale, 
They left her to a parent’s woes, 
And fled before the rising gale. 
Dm Langhoene. 
