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107

FLORA'S LESSON.

[_]

(WRITTEN IN 1832, WHEN A. E. WAS TWELVE YEARS OLD.)

Flora once invited
The Senses to her bower,
Where, in perfection rare,
Was every lovely flower.
But Hearing did not come
To see these lovely flowers;
In Music's cave was she,
Where she often spent her hours.
And Taste, too, stayed away,
To dine and sup with Fame;
And so, instead of five,
Three senses only came.
Venus in her car
Came on that very day,
To ask a perfect flower
For her to take away.
108

Said she, “You sister ladies
Must choose a flower for me;
I'll take it not unless
'Tis liked by all the three.”
Said Flora, “There's a flower,
I know you'll like it, when
I tell you which I mean:
The Tulip of the Fen.”
Said Sight, “It pleases me,
'Tis a lovely little bell;”
But her sister liked it not,
For it had a horrid smell.
“But say,” said she, “What plant
With the Spice-flower rich can vie?”
“I like it not,” said Sight,
“For it pleases not the eye.”
Said Smell, “The Rose will do,
It covers Flora's lands;”
But Touch directly said,
“Thorns always hurt my hands!”
So not a single flower
Had suited all the three;
And Flora, smiling, said,
“Let this a lesson be.
109

“From things not perfect quite,
Turn not away in scorn;
For where was ever found
The Rose without a thorn?”
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