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• Oh ! learn with more discerning eyes, 
Whate’er its aspect or disguise, 
True worth to scan; 
And, better taught, in time to come, 
Pause ere thou hastily tore-doom 
Thy tel low-man.’ 
IN FRUIT. 
And such is then thy Autumn dower ! 
Such clusters from so mean a flower ! 
How can it be? 
If Flora slight thee, yet I trow 
Pomona’s pride and boast art thou, 
Thou glorious tree! 
Thou, to whom bards of old did string 
The viol, and thy praises sing 
In various lay,— 
I, too, though feeble be my lyre. 
To laud thy beauty would aspire, 
But not as they. 
