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But even wliile I watched these flowers, tlie queen 
Began to droop, 
Her proud array flagged quickly, her high head 
Low, low, did stoop. 
And soon the cause of this I could descry; 
The vase, whose waters fed her pride, was dry.* 
And she, deprived of this distinctive wealth. 
No more might rank 
Among the great, or beautiful, or proud. 
But dimly sank. 
In loathsome dusk deformity, beside 
The very things o’er whom her swollen pride 
Had been most arrogant. And when I saw 
Her swift decay. 
And marked the giddy flies on other flowers 
As fondly play. 
As they had toyed with her so lately lost, 
Methought how false was all her haughty boast! 
How vain that pride of birth, or wealth, or state. 
Or fleeting power. 
Which blots the vaunted reason of our race. 
To whom this flower 
* The Lobelia fulgens, or Cardinal-flower, here alluded to, requires a constant 
and plentiful supply of water;—if deprived of it, the long stem bends to the 
ground, the flowers flag—and, unless soon indulged with its wonted libations, 
the plant dies. 
n T) 2 
