 | The Poetical Works of Percival Stockdale |  |
369
THE RIVAL FLOWERS.
[_]
In the month of November, a young lady had an elegant bouquet; it was composed of a rose and a jasmine. A gentleman, who was in her company, pronounced the flowers artificial. She assured him that they were not; he still doubted; she plucked two or three leaves from the rose' and gave them to him; by them he was convinced that the nosegay was a natural one. This scene, totally uninteresting to a phlegmatic mind, suggested to a poet the following imagery:
EVEN partial to a northern clime,
Where nature strews her frugal sweets,
And smiling on the poet's rhyme,
The generous Flora slow retreats.
Where nature strews her frugal sweets,
And smiling on the poet's rhyme,
The generous Flora slow retreats.
Fair Leonora, dangerous maid,
Who reared, and wore, each beauteous flower,
Took, one day, for superfluous aid,
The rose's and the jasmines's power.
Who reared, and wore, each beauteous flower,
Took, one day, for superfluous aid,
The rose's and the jasmines's power.
370
Clitander, with adventurous choice,
To specious warfare seated nigh,
Inhaled soft musick from her voice,
Delicious poison from her eye.
To specious warfare seated nigh,
Inhaled soft musick from her voice,
Delicious poison from her eye.
Cupid, to whom all archers yield,
Perched in her breast;—the bright bouquet
Before him glowed; and thus concealed,
The God in charming ambush lay.
Perched in her breast;—the bright bouquet
Before him glowed; and thus concealed,
The God in charming ambush lay.
Unseen, a small, but piercing dart,
Flew from his unrelenting bow;
I need not tell you, that the heart
Is always reached when he's the foe.
Flew from his unrelenting bow;
I need not tell you, that the heart
Is always reached when he's the foe.
Some blushing leaves, transfixed and borne
On the dread arrow winged their way;
Now, beyond cure, the heart was torne;
Compleat the triumph of the day.
On the dread arrow winged their way;
Now, beyond cure, the heart was torne;
Compleat the triumph of the day.
The fragrant foliage of the rose,
But more decisive made the wound;
In Kent such foliage never blows,
Nor yet on Sharon's holy ground.
But more decisive made the wound;
In Kent such foliage never blows,
Nor yet on Sharon's holy ground.
371
Unfading flower! the Sibyl's leaves,
Fraught with Jove's friendship, or his hate,
As every feeling soul believes,
Were never charged with surer fate!
Fraught with Jove's friendship, or his hate,
As every feeling soul believes,
Were never charged with surer fate!
Oh! dire effect of beauty's pride!
As Pope, in his immortal strain
Hath sung, the hapless lover died,
Entranced, “of aromatick pain!”
As Pope, in his immortal strain
Hath sung, the hapless lover died,
Entranced, “of aromatick pain!”
The God of keenest joys and, woes,
Exulting, to Olympus flew;
And envious of the honoured rose,
The jasmine drooped, and paler grew.
Exulting, to Olympus flew;
And envious of the honoured rose,
The jasmine drooped, and paler grew.
Durham.
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