FLOWERS.
I.
Unequal to my theme, with desperate feet
I sought the Muse's bower;
Anxious to see, tho' all-asham'd to meet
Some bland, inspiring Power:
When fleet along the rising gale,
The Queen, fair Fancy past;
And thro' her rainbow-tinged veil
A glance benignant cast:
Then beck'ning to a secret glade,
“Come, see,” she cry'd, “the train,
“Who own, beneath this mystic shade,
“My visionary reign!”
II.
Proud to obey the glad command,
I took with silent awe my stand:—
Meanwhile, in many a varying vest
Of rich expression aptly drest,
Ideal Myriads seem'd to rove
Promiscuous, thro' the cultur'd grove:
And each, as inbred impulse led,
From every flow'r-embroider'd bed
Some certain Plant, whose blossoms rose
Significantly pleasing, chose.
III.
With frank, firm look, and light tho' steady tread,
Came Courage first, and crop'd a dew-charg'd Rose;
For in the tender Rose might best be read
His very essence—Bloom that gently glows
Impell'd by gentle breath; prone to dispense
To all, all sweetness; yet alert to shew,
If rash invasion ruder deeds commence,
That warm resentment points a thorn below.
IV.
Retiring from the public eye,
The Maiden meek Humility
Was seen to turn with mildest grace
To heav'n her thoughts, to earth her face;
And all unconscious what fair fame
Merit like hers might well assume,
Prefer'd to every juster claim
The lowly Daisy's simple bloom.
V.
Some bawble each moment arranging,
Admiring, exploding, or changing,
The coquette Affectation skim'd wantonly by;
On her breast a Narcissus she bore,
As if with Narcissus of yore,
For a form like her own she could languish and die.
VI.
Heedless of the scorner's joke,
Smiling at the ruffian's stroke,
Persevering Patience stood;
Conquering evil still with good;
Binding for her brow the while
Artless wreaths of Camomile;
Hardy plant, whose vigorous shoot
Springs beneath the trampler's foot.
VII.
Pure Constant Love, (whose hallow'd fires
Time still exalts, and truth inspires,
In spite of absence, grief, or pain,)
Approv'd the faithful Marigold,
Whose leaves their saffron blaze unfold,
When first the sun asserts his reign;
Hail his glad progress thro' the day,
Close gradual with his parting ray,
Nor open, 'till he shines again.
VIII.
Superstition came telling her steps, and her beads;
Like Jack-in-a-bush hung all over with green,
Agnus-Castus by wholesale she cull'd from the meads,
And stuck with due care Holy Thistle between;
A chaplet of Monks-hood she pluck'd for her head,
And Rosemary sprigs for the graves of the dead.
IX.
Tiptoe o'er the level plain
Ardent Hope all panting flew,
Prompt her eager eye to strain,
Far beyond the present view:
Quick from hint to hint to stray,
She the Primrose held most dear;—
First-born of returning May;
Promise of the future year.
X.
Ill-Nature to a corner stole,
And taught her blood-shot eyes to roll,
As if she long'd to blight
Each flower of happier scent and hue;
For none she chose of all that grew,
Save poisonous Aconite.
XI.
Hand in hand, for they never asunder are seen,
All cheerful their features, all easy their mien,
Contentment and Innocence tript it along:
By the soft virgin Snowdrop was Innocence known,
Contentment took Hearts-ease, and call'd it her own;
Nor envied the great, nor the gay in the throng.
XII.
The throng!—just hint to wild conceit like mine!—
Why, what a wreath had I begun to twine!
—Indulgent as she was, methinks I hear
Ev'n Fancy's self now whisper in my ear,
“Quit ere 'tis tedious, quit the flowery road,
“Nor what was meant a Nosegay, make a Load.”
