FABLES OF FLOWERS,
FOR THE FEMALE SEX.
WITH
ZEPHYRUS and FLORA,
A VISION.

WRITTEN FOR THE AMUSEMENT OF

HER HIGHNESS THE PRINCESS ROYAL

BY THE AUTHOR OF THE CHOICE EMBLEMS, &C. &C.

Nature here

Wantons as in her prime, and plays at will

Her virgin fancies.

MILTON.

LONDON:

PRINTED FOR GEORGE RILEY, BOOKSELLER,
IN CURZON-STREET, MAY-FAIR.

AND SOLD BY
JOHN WILKIE, ST. PAUL’S-CHURCH-YARD.
MDCCLXXIII.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

LADY CHARLOTTE FINCH.

THESE NEW FABLES
WRITTEN FOR THE AMUSEMENT

OF

HER HIGHNESS,

CHARLOTTE,

PRINCESS ROYAL OF ENGLAND.

• ARE MOST HUMBLY DEDICATED BY
• HER LADYSHIP’S
• MOST HUMBLE
• AND OBEDIENT SERVANT,
• THE AUTHOR.

PREFACE.

When I survey the divine simplicity and blooming attractions, that are displayed amongst the variegated tribes of the vegetable creation, I cease to wonder, that Queens forego, for a while, the compliments of a nation, or withdraw from the glitter of a court, to be attended with the more splendid equipage of a bed of flowers; where nothing seems wanting but the power of speech, to make them become the most pleasing Monitors.

How far the Author of the following Fables, written for the amusement of an exalted Personage, may have succeeded, in descriptive fancy, as a poet: it is hoped, that, the moral and refined admonitions which may be found to breathe, from the fragrant bosom of a silver-robed Lily, or a blooming Jonquil, will throw a veil over any poetical inaccuracies; for who can paint like Nature?

As to the novelty of the plan, I cannot but hold myself, in a great measure, indebted to an ingenious Lady[1], well known in the literary world. And can only say, that I have found both health and recreation in the completion of it; by sharing some of the sweetest hours of contemplation, among the lovely subjects of the following pages.

THE AUTHOR.

TABLE of CONTENTS.

ZEPHYRUS

AND

FLORA:

A VISION.

I.

AS late I wander’d o’er the flow’ry plain,

Where Cambrian Cluyd pours his silver tide,

Amidst the pleasures of fair Plenty’s reign,

And blushing flow’rs and fruits on ev’ry side:

II.

Soft sigh’d the west winds, murm’ring o’er the dale,

Whose ev’ry charm rose fresher from the breeze;

The lofty hills more boldly kiss’d the gale,

Which skimm’d their tops, and shook the wavy trees.

III.

The sun descending, shot his golden beams

Askance, with many a cloud his ev’ning throne

Adorn’d; while mountains, woods, and lucent streams,

With the last blushes of his radiance shone.

IV.

Far stretching hence, Cambria’s rough heights I view,

Where Liberty long since forlorn retir’d,

Left fairer climes, and skies of brighter hue,

And, but at last, triumphantly expir’d:

V.

And wide around me wound the fertile vale[2],

Fit theme and subject of the poet’s song;

Whose num’rous beauties load the passing gale,

Whose breath repeats them, as it glides along.

VI.

Bright Phœbus sunk, dim twilight now succeeds,

Still gleaming dubious with uncertain ray,

While tremblingly among the vocal reeds

The ev’ning breezes still more faintly play.

VII.

Amid this beauteous, soft, and flow’ry scene,

On a high bank, all listless, I reclin’d;

Whose shelving sides were crown’d with lively green,

By tufted trees and bord’ring flow’rs confin’d.

VIII.

Here, while the landscape faded on my sight,

Wild Fancy’s eye still brighter scenes supply’d;

I view’d not the last track of parting light,

Nor mark’d the fanning breezes as they dy’d.

IX.

At length, Imagination, roving maid,

Though gentle sleep had fetter’d all my pow’rs

In golden chains, my busy soul convey’d

To other landscapes and immortal bow’rs.

X.

Methought I stood amidst a garden fair,

Whose bounds no sight of mortal eye could trace,

Situate mid-way, betwixt earth, seas, and air,

Unmark’d by Time, uncircumscrib’d by Space.

XI.

Not half so sweet was that delightsome dale,

Which to my waking view appear’d so bright;

For here did never-ceasing suns prevail,

With mildest sweetness temp’ring heav’nly light.

XII.

Spring breath’d eternal glories o’er the land:

And gentlest winds, o’er fragrant lawns that blow,

Nurs’d beauteous buds unset by mortal hand,

And op’ning flow’rs that without planting grow.

XIII.

Serene the heav’ns, save where a cloudy shrine,

Big with cœlestial plenty, sail’d on high,

Show’r’d Spring’s own roses from her seat divine,

And drew a purple radiance o’er the sky.

XIV.

Meanwhile, soft music echoing from each grove,

Tun’d to enchanting notes most soft and clear,

That breath’d the soul of harmony and love,

Thrill’d the rapt breast, and charm’d the list’ning ear.

XV.

And still the while, with voices loud and sweet,

The warbling birds in dulcet concert join’d,

The waters murm’ring flow with cadence meet,

“Low answer’d by the gently whisp’ring wind.”

XVI.

These themes of wonder silent I survey’d,

Attentive hanging on each dying sound;

Pleas’d with the glories which I saw display’d,

And scenes of joy and pleasure op’ning round.

XVII.

Yet still methought a certain want appear’d,

Of some to own this spot, so heav’nly fair,

Else were each charming flow’ret vainly rear’d,

“To bloom unnotic’d to the desart air:”

XVIII.

Else, were in vain these soft melodious strains,

Which the whole soul of harmony inspir’d,

Pour’d to the wild woods and the lonely plains,

Though worthiest still by all to be admir’d.

XIX.

Such were creation’s first imperfect hours,

When the gay heav’ns in early beauty shone,

And earth, bedeck’d with beasts, birds, plants, and flow’rs,

Spread all her bosom to the genial sun;

XX.

Unfinish’d still the mighty work appear’d,

Till Man, the lord of all, was bid to rise;

With open brow his face divine who rear’d,

And sought with upright look his native skies.

XXI.

Thus as I paus’d, still louder swell’d the notes,

From ev’ry bush, and brake, and echoing hill;

While choirs cœlestial seem’d to tune their throats,

And, with glad voice the chearful chorus fill.

XXII.

Then, by some magic pow’r swift snatch’d away,

Ev’n to the midst of that delightful land,

I view’d at once all clad in bright array,

A thousand Genii of the gardens stand.

XXIII.

But far above all these a seat was plac’d,

Dress’d with each flow’r that ev’ry season knows,

Whose vary’d tints, in gem-like order, grac’d

The rural theatre which gradual rose.

XXIV.

For lo! the Genius of each blooming flow’r

Brought his own fav’rite with peculiar care,

To deck the arch of this inchanted bow’r,

And, bowing at the throne, he plac’d it there.

XXV.

A sight more beauteous ne’er did eye behold,

Than these bright tribes that glitter’d on the day;

And, rich in purple dyes and flaming gold,

Did their bright bosoms to the sun display.

XXVI.

Such was the throne;—but oh! what pen can trace

The heav’nly beauties of the matchless Two,

Who, glowing with each bright cœlestial grace,

Sat there aloft, conspicuous to the view!

XXVII.

The first, a youth of sweet and gentle mien,

With many a wreath and knotted garland crown’d;

Whose beauteous visage glow’d with charms serene,

And on whose shoulders purple wings were bound:

XXVIII.

These when he spreads, reviving Nature pours

Her copious treasures of immortal bloom;

Whilst through vast realms he scatters vernal stores,

And from his downy pinions shakes perfume.

XXIX.

His name was Zephyrus; and next him sat

The beauteous goddess of the blooming year,

The constant partner of his rural state,

To heav’n and earth, to gods and mortals dear;

XXX.

Flora, bright pow’r, who sheds a thousand sweets

O’er thousand lands, what time her gifts appear,

What time her consort with his kisses greets

Her coral lips, and wakes the rising year.

XXXI.

Her beauteous face was deck’d with youthful pride,

Her graceful form in flamy robes was dress’d;

And ev’ry charm wild Nature could provide,

Adorn’d her head, and beam’d upon her breast.

XXXII.

Beside the throne, rang’d in fair order, stood

The various Seasons of the rolling year;

By all their train of months, weeks, days, pursu’d:

And all their various symbols flourish’d here.

XXXIII.

First came the Spring, led by the rosy Hours,

With all the Loves and Graces in her train;

Deck’d with her wreath of never-fading flow’rs,

Diffusing odours o’er the smiling plain.

XXXIV.

Next Summer came; his cheeks with ardour fir’d,

With his own blushing fruits and harvests crown’d;

Before whose face the infant Spring retir’d,

And with her roses strew’d the russet ground.

XXXV.

Stain’d with the grape’s press’d juice, with steadier pace,

Still looking backward on preceding time,

Ripe Autumn next succeeded in his place;

Scatt’ring rich fruits, the growth of ev’ry clime.

XXXVI.

Last Winter comes, with heavy step and flow,

A hoary captive bound in icy chains;

With haggard eyes, and mantle dipp’d in snow,

Who still of cold in Spring’s own realms complains.

XXXVII.

Not one of these, but from their various store

Some off’ring meet to lovely Flora pay;

Not one of these, but with that off’ring more,

And her soft reign most willingly obey.

XXXVIII.

Ev’n Winter’s self, with look averted, throws,

His thin-strewn flow’rets on the goddess’ shrine;

Ev’n his cold bosom for a moment glows,

When he beholds her radiant form divine.

XXXIX.

But now the Genii of each plant and flow’r,

Rang’d in fair order, wait her high commands;

And each, approaching her delicious bow’r,

In expectation of her verdict stands.

XL.

For many of the garden’s painted race,

And some that with their colours deck the field,

Rivals in wealth, in beauty, and in grace,

Had wag’d high wars, unknowing how to yield.

XLI.

All claim’d preferment, and each one could boast

Of some bright beauty or perfection dear,

Which should induce mankind to prize her most,

And to preferment make her title clear.

XLII.

And some, of empty shew and titles vain;

Alas! that Pride so many should deceive!

Claim’d o’er their kindred plants and flow’rs to reign:

And of their birthright others would bereave.

XLIII.

The Crown Imperial, and the spurious Flow’r

Which boasts of royal arms and royal mien[3];

The warlike Plant that claims immortal pow’r[4],

And that gay lady call’d the Meadow’s Queen.

XLIV.

All these, and more, that scorn’d a subject state,

Rose to the claim of high imperial sway:

Forgetting—to be good was to be great—

They rose to rule, unpractis’d to obey.

XLV.

Others again for beauty’s meed contend,

Chief amidst whom appear’d the Tulip race;

A painted tribe, born only to contend

For praise, where all is giv’n external grace.

XLVI.

Alcæa proud[5]; and lovely Venus’ joy,

That does from adverse winds its title claim[6];

The once conceited, self-admiring Boy[7],

Whose love prepost’rous gave a flow’r a name.

XLVII.

The proud Carnation dipp’d in brightest dyes,

Who still with thirst of praise and glory burns;

With her whose mirrour cheats deluded eyes[8],

And she that still to her lov’d Phœbus turns[9].

XLVIII.

There, with their num’rous chiefs of diff’rent hues,

The painted Cock’s Comb, and his lofty train,

Their beauties vaunting, to the rest refuse

To share the glories of their gaudy reign.—

XLIX.

The judges sat, each sep’rate claim was heard,

While some for rule, and some for praises, sought;

And some had been disgrac’d, and some preferr’d,

As in the goddess’ mind their various pleadings wrought

L.

But her lov’d consort, gently whisp’ring, said:

“What means my Queen, on these to cast her sight,

Who have but pride or lust of sway display’d,

Nor brought their real worth or virtues to the light?”

LI.

How many absent now, more fair than these,

With greater fragrance in lone valleys blow?

Or, if the garden’s flow’ry tribe more please,

Where do the Rose and lovely Vi’let glow?

LII.

The Lily where, and all that num’rous host,

Who claim true praise to innate virtue due;

Or do they merit least who loudest boast,

And with false glare impose upon the view?

LIII.

For sure, of all who feel my genial gale,

Or to the sun their fragrant breasts unfold,

The best and sweetest that on earth prevail,

Yet do I not in this fair court behold.

LIV.

He said; and Flora, rising from her throne,

Bade present search for ev’ry one be made:

Who, though their off’rings on her altar shone,

Their modest haste had from the court convey’d.

LV.

Strait they return’d:—The lovely blushing Rose,

The Lily ever chaste and ever fair,

The Vi’let sweet with purple tints that glows,

And Myrtle green, that scents the ambient air:

LVI.

With many more, grateful to sight and smell,

By bounteous heav’n with matchless charms endu’d;

That in the fragrant meads or gardens dwell,

Or which wild wastes from human eyes seclude.

LVII.

These by their Genii now in modest guise,

Excus’d from pleading ’midst the mingled throng.

Claim’d but the tribute all allow’d their prize,

Nor sought their own just praises to prolong.

LVIII.

Yet, these once seen, abash’d their rivals stand;

And would have fled, but Flora this deny’d;

Who, rising graceful, with her out-stretch’d hand,

Thus briefly to th’ assembled pow’rs apply’d:

LIX.

“Genii of gardens, meads, and sylvan scenes,

Attendant still in Flora’s vernal train,

Say what this ardent, fond contention means,

Why strive you thus for pow’r, and strive in vain?

LX.

Are you not all beneath our sceptre blest;

Say, do not all confess our gentle sway?

Then seek not one to triumph o’er the rest,

But each in peaceful order still obey.

LXI.

So all the glories of my reign shall share,

So all be still in poets songs renown’d,

So shall my Zephyr still with gentlest air,

Wave o’er your beds, with bloom eternal crown’d.

LXII.

And you, who not for pow’r, but beauty’s charms,

For gaudy tints, still fiercely would contend;

What envious fire such gentle bosoms warms?

And where, alas! must the mad contest end?

LXIII.

Each has her charms, and each peculiar worth,

To all in various portions duly giv’n,

By secret Nature working at its birth,

The lavish bounty of indulgent Heav’n.

LXIV.

Each has her charms:—but view the blushing Rose,

Behold the beauties of the Lily fair;

Few boast of equal excellence to those,

Yet with their modest merit none compare.

LXV.

These, therefore, we prefer; and though no Queen

Besides Ourselves we will to hold the reign;

Yet, for their true desart conspicuous seen,

We rank them foremost on the flow’ry plain.

LXVI.

Hear, and obey; and if aught else abide,

To raise dispute among your orders bright;

Still by true merit let the cause be try’d,

And specious shew yield to more solid right.”

LXVII.

She spoke;—the Seasons, and the winged Hours,

Confirm’d her voice; then breath’d a rich perfume,

Which Zephyr scatter’d wide o’er all the flow’rs,

And deck’d their leaves with more than mortal bloom.

LXVIII.

Then, his lov’d consort straining in his arms,

With gentlest touch salutes her swelling breast;

Who strait shone forth in more refulgent charms,

As Juno when by vernal Jove caress’d.

LXIX.

And sudden joining in a mazy dance,

The airy phantoms of the scene appear’d;

Some to the sprightly timbrel did advance,

While some their clear harmonious voices rear’d.

LXX.

But One among the rest, who view’d me stand

Intent, and gazing on the prospect near,

Came forth, and gently touch’d my trembling hand,

And bade me mark his words, and nothing fear:

LXXI.

“And seest thou not (said he) these vary’d flow’rs,

Contending still for beauty or for sway?

Such are the contests which employ man’s hours,

In life’s short, busy, transitory day.

LXXII.

For what is gaudy beauty’s short-liv’d bloom,

The pomp of pow’r, of riches, or of pride;

Soon bury’d in the undistinguish’d tomb,

Which all their boasted pomp at once must hide?

LXXIII.

Virtue alone survives, immortal maid!

Her truly amaranthine flow’r shall blow,

When all the rest are wrapt in dusky shade,

And laid in dark and dusty ruins low.

LXXIV.

Hear, and attend!—improve the moral strain,

So may’st thou sail safe through life’s dang’rous sea;

So from these scenes thou wisdom may’st attain,

And Flora prove Minerva’s self to thee.”

LXXV.

He ceas’d; and well I mark’d the prudent lore,

And much revolv’d his saying in my mind;

Bent all the mystic moral to explore,

By this romantic, splendid scene design’d.

LXXVI.

But, the full concert swelling on my ear,

The bands of Sleep dissolv’d, away he flies;

At once the train of phantoms disappear,

And on my waking sight the vision dies.

LXXVII.

No longer now near Flora’s bow’r I stood,

But view’d with op’ning eyes the rising day;

Then down the Valley fair my path pursu’d,

And homeward took my solitary way.

FABLES OF FLOWERS.

Fab. I.

The Holly Hock & Lily of the Vale

Fab. II.

The Aloe in Blossom

FABLE I.
The HOLLYHOCK and the
LILY of the VALE.

I.

’TWAS early morn, Sol’s radiant beams

Illum’d the landscape round.

The dew-drops glitter’d on the day,

And gem-like deck’d the ground.

II.

Within the garden’s cultur’d walks

A Hollyhock there grew;

And there the Lily of the Vale

Kept humble distance due.

III.

Elate with pride, the gaudy flow’r

Expands its swelling breast;

And, joying in the vernal scene,

The Lily thus address’d:

IV.

“What dost thou here, mean paltry thing,

“Go blow in yonder field;

“Nor thus disgrace fair Flora’s tribes,

“That heav’nly beauties yield.

V.

“Go, with thy faint and sickly hue;

“Some chearless vale adorn;

“But here intrude not on our reign,

“Nor drink the dew of morn.

VI.

“Whilst I with heighten’d colours glow,

“In Summer’s liv’ry gay;

“Imbibe the softest tints of light,

“And glitter on the day.

VII.

“Me yonder golden sun shall warm,

“At morn and noon-tide hour;

“And me his ev’ning beams attend,

“Like his own fav’rite flow’r.

VIII.

“Nor yonder Rose, nor Bacchus’ Plant,

“Which twining near me grows,

“Can boast more excellence than me,

“Or brighter dyes disclose.

IX.

“Hence thou! nor this fair spot profane,

“Where fairer flow’rets blow;

“Return again to shades obscure,

“And there neglected grow.”

X.

The Lily heard, with decent grace,

That scorn’d the boaster’s pride;

Then from her lone, unenvy’d bed

She thus in brief reply’d;

XI.

“From vaunting loud what fame is gain’d,

“To raise the boaster’s name;

“Or might not yonder blushing Rose

“Exert a fairer claim?

XII.

“And many a flow’r that round thee blows,

“In the bright garb of Spring;

“Or, rich in elegant perfumes,

“That scent the Zephyr’s wing.

XIII.

“The vine, with purple clusters deck’d,

“Shall soon rich sweets bestow;

“Whilst thou, a barren flow’r at best,

“Art only made for show.

XIV.

“For me;—what Nature form’d, I am;

“I envy not thy pride;

“Nor seek to raise a greater boast,

“By Providence deny’d.

XV.

“Yet in some dark and dang’rous hour,

“When tempests rude assail;

“Ev’n thou may’st wish the humbler state

“Of Lily of the Vale.”

XVI.

Safe from her humble spot she said,

And view’d the changing sky;

From op’ning clouds the thunders break,

The livid lightnings fly.

XVII.

Full on the garden’s lofty wall,

The flow’rs exalted place,

The fires æthereal swiftly fall,

And rend its solid base.

XVIII.

And now the boaster’s trust and pride

Assur’d her overthrow;

Her glories buried in the dust,

By one destructive blow.

XIX.

The Lily view’d the ruin’d flow’r,

And strait this Moral drew;

Beauty and Pride are idly vain,

But Praise is Merit’s due.

XX.

Daughters of Albion, timely wise,

Attend the moral tale;

And imitate with prudent care

The Lily of the Vale.

FABLE II.
The ALOE in Blossom.

I.

“FROM warmer climates early borne,

“Where beams the god of light;

“How gaily blooms yon lofty plant,

“In native colours bright!

II.

“The root, the plant, the leaf, the flow’r,

“Alike our wonder raise;

“And all confess the fragrant stock,

“Renown’d in ancient days.

III.

“Some say, but one revolving age

“Beholds thy beauties spread;

“And rear aloft to genial suns

“Its highly blooming head.

IV.

“But thou, like Merit, kindly nurs’d,

“An early spring wilt know;

“While, check’d by rigid, frowning skies,

“Thy gems forget to glow.

V.

“Emblem of Genius rarely known,

“And still more rarely giv’n;

“To reap the good itself imparts,

“And share the gifts of Heav’n.

VI.

“Say, glorious stranger, rear’d erewhile

“In distant, sunny lands;

“Can either India more bestow,

“Than Albion’s isle commands?

VII.

“In western and in southern climes

“Too long hast thou been plac’d;

“And India’s sands, and Afric’s wilds,

“Thy beauteous presence grac’d.

VIII.

“Deign then, O sov’reign plant, thy balm,

“On this our land bestow;

“And give thy flow’rs in all their grace

“And lustre here to blow.”—

IX.

The Guardian Sylph, that watch’d the flow’r,

Confess’d before me stood;

And shook his bright and sunny locks,

And thus my suit withstood:

X.

“Cease, cease, he cry’d, such boons to ask,

“As scarce deserve a name;

“While Albion, favour’d from above,

“Can greater blessings claim.

XI.

“Still, still, their gems and spicy store,

“Let either India boast;

“And Afric vaunt the precious sands,

“That glitter on her coast.

XII.

“Not these, nor all the hidden wealth,

“That earth or sea possess;

“Can match those richer gifts of heav’n,

“Which fair Britannia bless.

XIII.

“Peace, Freedom, Wealth from farthest shores,

“By golden commerce brought;

“All these are hers, and ev’ry good,

“By happiest nations sought.

XIV.

“Nor this alone; here Genius blooms,

“A Flow’r excelling mine.

“Nor asks a whole revolving age,

“In glories to refine.

XV.

“Here too the Fair, with beauty bright,

“The hearts of heroes warm;

“Those human blossoms genial blow,

“And put forth ev’ry charm.

XVI.

“Cease then, nor envy other climes

“Their beauties thinly strewn;

“But learn with decent pride to prize

“The blessings of your own.”

Fab. III.

The Rose & Hornet

Fab. IV.

The Sensitive Plant

FABLE III.
The ROSE and the HORNET.

I.

DEEP in a lone sequester’d vale,

Where many’ a streamlet flows;

And nurs’d by many’ a gentle gale,

Soft bloom’d a damask Rose.

II.

The Summer’s suns, the Zephyrs bland,

All own’d her peerless queen;

The honey’d Bee, Spring’s sweetest child,

Oft’ sought her breast serene.

III.

Her beauties op’ning on the day,

With ev’ry grace were crown’d;

Imbib’d the golden solar beam,

And deck’d the desart ground.

IV.

Daughter of Nature, still she blow’d,

Where human face ne’er shone;

And spread her blossoms to the view

But of the Sun alone.

V.

Pride of the East, a brighter glow,

Beyond our garden’s bloom,

Bade her with heighten’d beauty blush,

And scatter rich perfume.

VI.

Her rudely rushing through the air

An angry Hornet ’spy’d;

Vow’d to enjoy the heav’nly flow’r,

In all her blooming pride.

VII.

Bold son of heat, with rudest haste,

His course he strait address’d;

To rifle all her charms in spite,

And riot on her breast.

VIII.

He search’d each leaf, each blossom wounds

With rude unhallow’d rage;

Yet nothing could his search explore,

His passion to assuage.

IX.

The beauteous flow’r, though wildly rent,

No sweetness would afford;

But hurt by many a vengeful thorn,

His rashness he deplor’d.

X.

At length, thus baffled and deceiv’d,

Enrag’d, he silence broke;

And now of ev’ry hope bereft,

He thus insulting spoke;

XI.

“Vain gaudy flow’r, they term thy breast

“Engaging, bright, and fair;

“Who seek thy bosom, ne’er shall find

“Or joy or sweetness there.

XII.

“The Bee indeed, thy fav’rite, still

“Says, Honey springs from thee;

“Yet nought but trouble, care, and pain,

“Hast thou bestow’d on me.

XIII.

“Then boast no more thy beauteous form

“That still excites desire;

“Since Thorns alone thou canst bestow,

“To quench a lover’s fire.”

XIV.

Then thus the Rose,—“Intruder vile!

“Who thus would’st force employ;

“Though arm’d with pow’r; know ’tis not thine

“To taste substantial joy.

XV.

“The Bee, who sips each sweet that glows

“In lawn or shady bow’r,

“Tastes all the honey as he flies,

“But never wounds the flow’r.

XVI.

“Whilst thou, both impious and unwise,

“Of all our tribes the scorn:

“For ev’ry violated sweet

“Shalt always meet a thorn.”

FABLE IV.
The SENSITIVE PLANT.

I.

RARE plant, or flow’r, or nymph-like tree,

With human sense endu’d;

Why dost thou shrink beneath the touch,

And bear but to be view’d?

II.

Say does some Hamadryad chuse

In that green stem to live?

And to her highly favour’d shrine

This strong sensation give?

III.

Well for thy sake their ancient oaks

The wood-nymphs might forsake;

And in thy purer bosom with

Their lov’d abodes to make.

IV.

Yet why indignant from each hand

Alike dost thou retire?

Does ev’ry touch, replete with ill,

Alike thy hate inspire?

V.

Too cautious nymph! well might’st thou deign

To some thy breast unfold;

Sure those would worship at the touch,

Who love when they behold.

VI.

Shrunk in herself, with modest grace

The Plant thus fair reply’d,

“Whate’er my source, my maiden state

“But ill agrees with pride[10].

VII.

“In purity alone I joy;

“I seek no other fame,

“But that which from chaste wishes grows,

“And suits a virgin’s name.

VIII.

“Nymphs of the woods, the groves, and streams,

“Too oft have found the smart

“Of looser fires, which, once indulg’d,

“Will rankle in the heart.

IX.

“Me no rude touch shall e’er profane;

“That guard if once I leave,

“Of ev’ry virtue well I know

“Mankind would me bereave.

X.

“Nor this alone, know, curious youth,

“A thorny mail I own;

“Foe to the rash unthinking hand

“That violates my throne.

XI.

“And ev’n within this spotless breast

“Does deadly venom spring;

“So he that ravishes the sweets,

“May meet the mortal sting.

XII.

“Go then, and range from flow’r to flow’r,

“Amidst the gaudy train:

“But sacred be my homely plant,

“To bright-hair’d Vesta’s reign.

XIII.

“She ceas’d; nor I the flow’r profan’d,

“To chastity devote;

“But on the sand with rustic pen,

“This sacred moral wrote:

XIV.

The Nymph who slights strict virtue’s guard,

Shall quickly meet a snare;

And Pleasures, rais’d on Virtue’s bane,

Are fatal, as they’re fair.

Fab. V.

The Hawthorn & Primrose

Fab. VI.

The White Rose & Red

FABLE V.
The HAWTHORN and the PRIMROSE.

I.

BENEATH a wild and rustic shade,

Impervious to the view;

In the sweet-smiling month of May,

A lovely Primrose grew.

II.

The gentle child of early Spring

By bounteous Flora crown’d;

With vernal beauties born to deck

The unfrequented ground.

III.

The brightest dye, the sweetest scent,

Her yellow leaves could yield;

Were spent upon the empty air,

Nor e’er adorn’d the field.

IV.

For round her grew a bushy brake,

With many’ a thorn beset;

And many’ a weed obscene and foul

Deform’d the green retreat.

V.

But high above the rest advanc’d

A spreading Hawthorn rose;

Whose lengthen’d branches overhung

The seat of her repose.

VI.

Her gem-like blossoms wide display’d

The darkling dell adorn;

With grateful fragrance kiss the wind,

And drink the dew of morn’.

VII.

Her the lone Rose in mournful guise

Full many a day had ey’d;

And thus at length one summer’s eve

She all impatient cry’d.

VIII.

“Ah Thorn! the bane of all my hopes!

“Ah Thorn! that wound’st my peace!

“Still must I view thy branches spread,

“And still my woes increase:

IX.

“I who long since had, happier far,

“Been by some fair caress’d;

“Had drunk the radiance of her eye,

“And panted on her breast?

X.

“What have I done, O wretch! that still

“This evil treatment meets;

“Or hast thou aught in lieu to give

“To those who lose my sweets?”

XI.

She said:—the Hawthorn thus reply’d,

“Fond pageant of an hour!

“Art thou displeas’d because I bloom,

“Though shelter’d by my pow’r?

XII.

“And know’st thou not that but for me

“Thy boasted bloom were vain;

“By grazing herds trod under foot,

“And level’d with the plain?

XIII.

“Thee I protect; myself am known

“Among the warlike race;

“Whom Nature arms with prompt defence

“Of most excelling grace.

XIV.

“Nor idly I these weapons wear,

“Nor idle is my bloom;

“One arms me for myself and thee;

“The other sheds perfume.

XV.

“And oft as this returning month

“Adds vigour to the year;

“Crown’d with my gems in rustic dance

“The nymphs and swains appear.

XVI.

“Me the fleet hare, and tim’rous fawn,

“Seek at their greatest need;

“They rest secure beneath my shade,

“And on my bounty feed.

XVII.

“But most the plaintive Philomel,

“Sweet warbler of the grove,

“Joys ’midst my branches to repose,

“And sing her hapless love.

XVIII.

“Against my thorns her bosom plac’d,

“She strains her tuneful throat;

“And by my useful aid exalts

“Each sweetly trilling note.

XIX.

“Sacred to Flora, of her train

“Although no flow’r am I;

“And born to flourish many a moon,

“When thou shalt fade and die.”

XX.

“Cease then, nor envy this my state,

“Which must thy own defend;

“The thorns I bear shall save thy flow’r,

“And prove thy surest friend.”

XXI.

So spake the Hawthorn, justly wise;

The Rose unansw’ring heard:

I caught the Moral, as it rose;

And thus its sense appear’d:

XXII.

Life’s humble vale is most secure;

Cares on th’ exalted wait:

Yet those who well the weak protect

Deserve unenvy’d State.

FABLE VI.
The WHITE ROSE and the RED.

I.

CONTENDING beauties, whom the doom

Of Fate has still assign’d

Two fragrant rival flow’rs to blow,

And scent the western wind;

II.

The White Rose and the blushing Red,

Each one the garden’s pride,

With equal grace their leaves display’d,

And flourish’d side by side.

III.

The first of spotless beauty vain

That sudden caught the eye,

The last attentive praise to gain

From her more sanguine dye.

IV.

Of sov’reign virtue both well known,

Both favour’d from above:

Still full of glory rose each flow’r,

Emblems of gentle Love.

V.

Yet ’twixt their stocks wild feuds subsist,

To work them lasting woe;

Whilst each of other still complain’d,

And strove her overthrow.

VI.

“Shame, said the Red, on that pale hue,

“Which speaks the wearer’s heart;

“That, void of virtue as of grace,

“No colour can impart.

VII.

“Unlike the blushes that adorn

“My flow’r with colour meet,

“Aurora’s, when she wakes the day,

“Appear not half so sweet.”

VIII.

“Nay! Shame on thee, the White reply’d,

“Whose blush by guilt was giv’n:

“Ev’n by the blood of Venus shed,

“Our patroness in Heav’n[11].

IX.

“Till then like me all Roses were,

“Whose ancient stock I claim;

“And, void of crime, still reprobate

“Their colour with their name.”

X.

“This and much more she angry said:

“But Jove’s immortal flow’r[12]

“Their ill-meant conversation broke,

“With soft, persuasive pow’r.

XI.

“Forbear, she cry’d, in haughty guise,

“Reproachful to contend:

“Whoe’er the victrix, small her gain,

“That thus can lose a friend.

XII.

“Ally’d by Nature in your kind,

“And diff’ring but in Hue:

“You both possess intrinsic worth,

“And outward beauty too.

XIII.

“Long was the strife your[13] ancient state,

“In this our isle pursu’d;

“Which many a year drench’d either Rose,

“In seas of kindred blood.

XIV.

“Oh! may no more such horrors rise,

“Within our Garden’s pale:

“But all with emulation strive,

“That concord may prevail!

XV.

“May civil feuds and ranc’rous hate

“From hence be banish’d far;

“Foul is that strife, where friends contest,

“And wage inhuman war.

XVI.

“Then to this solemn truth give ear;

“Where trifles thus are priz’d,

“If two for victory contend;

“They both will be despis’d.”

Fab. VII.

The Crocus

Fab. VIII.

Anemone & Passion Flower

FABLE VII.
The CROCUS.

I.

“SAY, beauteous flow’r, whose burnish’d leaves

“With Spring’s own livery glow:

“In these bleak months, why dost thou chuse

“T’ adorn a waste of snow?

II.

“Say, dost thou grudge to summer-skies,

“That bloom divinely bright:

“Or, are thy beauties clearer seen,

“Through this thin Robe of White?

III.

“The Snow-drop, thy companion fair,

“As well thy foil might prove,

“And both might bloom in seasons sweet,

“And far from hence remove.

IV.

“To Summer’s gayer months benign;

“Should’st thou transfer thy reign,

“Thy beauties still would brighter glow,

“And doubly grace the plain.—”

V.

I said:—the lovely smiling flow’r,

The beauty of its race;

And friendly to the sons of men,

Reply’d with decent grace:

VI.

“Nature’s great book before thee set:

“She blames thee not to scan

“Her works on every side display’d,

“The fit employ of man.

VII.

“When Spring and Summer glad the earth,