132 
ORCHIS. 
’Tis but obedience to the plan 
From Nature’s birth proposed to Man; 
Who, lest her choicest sweets in vain 
Should blossom for our thankless train, 
Lest beauty pass unheeded by 
Like cloud upon the summer sky; 
Lest mem’ry of the brave and just 
Should sleep with them consign’d to dust; 
With leading hand th’ expedient proves, 
And paints for us the form she loves. 
