THE LITTLE PET PLANT.
[_]
(An original Air.—Composed by Mr. Smith.)
I
A Florist a sweet little blossom espied,
Which bloom'd like its ancestors by the road side;
Its sweetness was simple, its colours were few,
Yet the blossom looked fair in the spot where it grew;
The Florist beheld it, and cried, “I'll enchant
“The botanical world with this sweet little plant;
“Its leaves shall be shelter'd, and carefully nursed,
“It shall charm all the world, tho' I met with it first
“Under a hedge!”
II
He carried it home to his hot-house with care,
And he said, “Tho' the rarest exotics are there,
“My little pet plant, when I've nourished its stem,
“In tint and in fragrance shall imitate them.
“Tho' none shall suspect from the road side it came,
“Roadum Sidum I'll call it, a beautiful name!
“While Botanists look thro' their glasses and view
“Its beauties, they'll never suspect that it grew
“Under a hedge!”
III
The little Pet Plant, when it shook off the dirt
Of its own native ditch, soon began to be pert,
And toss'd its small head, for perceiving that none
But Exotics were round it, it thought itself one.
As a wild flower, all would have owned it was fair
And prais'd it tho' gaudier blossoms were there;
But when it assumes hot-house airs we see through
The forc'd tint of its leaves, and suspect that it grew
“Under a hedge!”
MORAL.
In the bye ways of life, oh! how many there are,
Who, being born under some fortunate star,
Assisted by beauty or talent grow rich
And bloom in a hot-house instead of a ditch.
And whilst they disdain not their own simple stem,
The honours they grasp, may gain honour from them;
But when (like the Pet Plant) such people grow pert,
We soon trace them to their original dirt
“Under a hedge!”
