60 
POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
You really are a pretty creature : 
Then wherefore hide each blooming feature 
Come up, and show your modest mien.” 
“ Miss Rose,” the Strawberry replied, 
“ I never did possess a pride 
That wish’d to dash the public eye : 
Indeed I own that I’m afraid— 
I think there’s safety in the shade; 
Ambition causes many a sigh.” 
“ Go, simple child,” the Rose rejoin’d, 
“ See how I wanton in the wind : 
I feel no danger’s dread alarms : 
And then observe the god of day, 
How amorous with his golden ray, 
To pay his visits to my charms !” 
No sooner said, hut with a scream 
She started from her favourite theme— 
A clown had on her fix’d his pat. 
In vain she screech’d—Hob did but smile : 
Rubb’d with her leaves his nose awhile, 
Then bluntly stuck her in his hat. 
Wolcgt. 
