HAREBELL. 
123 
“ While the flowers that you fancy are crowding you there, 
“ Spring round you, delighted your converse to share: 
“His flame-colour’d robe is imposing, ’tis true; 
“Yet, who likes it so well as your mantle of blue? 
“For we know that of innocence one is the vest; 
“ The other the cloak of a treacherous breast. 
“I see your surprise — but I know him full well, 
“And have number’d his victims, as fading they fell: 
“He blighted twin Violets that under him lay, 
“ And poison’d a sister of mine the same day !” 
The Primrose was silent —The Harebell, ’t is said, 
Inclined for a moment her beautiful head ; 
But quickly recovered her spirits, and then 
Declared that she ne’er should feel envy again. 
