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FLOWERS.
Didst ever think how simple flowers bloom,
And shed their beauties on the summer air,
Each giving forth its measure of perfume,
Or gladdening earth by its effulgence rare —
Unheeding aught that flattering lips may speak,
Nor taking airs upon themselves at praise,
Doing their duty with a carriage meek,
And cheering all their little life of days?
No jealous rivalry contention brings,
As in more beauteous circles far than these;
No pride impels the blossom as it swings
To make some humbler sister ill at ease;
But each one blooms with its own charms content,
Nor, if excelled, cares it a single scent.
And shed their beauties on the summer air,
Each giving forth its measure of perfume,
Or gladdening earth by its effulgence rare —
Unheeding aught that flattering lips may speak,
Nor taking airs upon themselves at praise,
Doing their duty with a carriage meek,
And cheering all their little life of days?
No jealous rivalry contention brings,
As in more beauteous circles far than these;
No pride impels the blossom as it swings
To make some humbler sister ill at ease;
But each one blooms with its own charms content,
Nor, if excelled, cares it a single scent.
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