190 THE POETRY OF FLOWER,. 
TO THE NARCISSUS 
by ben jonson. 
Arise a nds p e ak thy sorrows, Echo, rise- 
Here, by this fountain, where thy love did’nin,. 
Whose memory lives fresh to vulgar *2*“* 
nned ln tbs yellow flower, that bears his name, 
ECHO. 
His name revives, and lifts me up from earth. 
SeG ’ S we'ep yet mournin = fount, ? 
Th’ untimely fate of that too beauteous boy 
That trophy of self-love, and spoil of nature’ 
Who (now transform’d into this drooping flowerl 
Hangs the repentant head back from the stream 
As if u wish’d-would I had never look’d ’ 
In such a flattering mirror! 0, Narcissus' 
I hou that wast once (and yet art) my Narcissus 
Had Echo but been private with thy thought? 
^ s r d d h T '"FI aWay ' WseIfiri ‘ears, ’ 
I ill she had all turn’d waste, that in her 
(As m a true glass) thou mightst have gazed 
But SLv/ bea ” ,ieS by kW 
Bu wi 761 COuId look on truth, 
But with blear d beams ; slick flattery and she 
Are twin-born sisters, and do mix their eyes 
As if you sever one, the other dies. W 
