228 THE ENCHANTED PLANTS, 
With what delight she stops to gaze, 
Soft as descending dews her praise, 
Bright as the suri her eyes. 
PINK. 
When Silvia, by the breeze caressed. 
Herself the queen of flowers confessed. 
Appears, eclipsed they pine. 
For me she oft the Rose resigns. 
And sighing o’er my form inclines. 
Her breath more sweet than mine. 
LARKSPUR. 
Behold this spot, how large a space 
She yields to us, her favourite race. 
Placed here in crowded ranks ; 
Armed with our spurs, I heard her swear. 
None but the brave deserved the fair;” 
I blushed, and bowed my thanks. 
PINK. 
Just now our variegated hue. 
And rich corollas hung with dew. 
Attracted Silvia’s eye. 
