146
And since thou canst by more than one,
Thou'rt worthy to be kissed by none.
The morning Rose, that untouched stands,
Armed with her briars, how sweetly smells!
But plucked and strained thro' ruder hands
Her sweet no longer with her dwells.
Her scent and beauty both are gone,
And leaves fell from her one by one.
Such fate, ere long, will thee betide,
When thou hast handled been awhile!
Like sere flowers to be thrown aside,
And I shall sigh, and some will smile
To see thy love to every one
Hath brought thee to be loved by none!
The pretty single Rose, from which my illustrative drawing was made, was more nearly free from thorns than any I have yet seen: indeed I could not find any of the "sharp spines" on its smooth stem, but I will not offend the manes of the moral and amatory Bards of old, by asserting the entire absence of Beauty's attendant evils.
Next follows, in this our humble portrait gallery of Flora's fair children, the pure Jasmine; one among the chosen plants in Milton's bower of Eden.
—— Each odorous bushy shrub
Fenced up the verdant wall; each beauteous flower,
Iris all hues, Roses and Jessamin,
Rear'd high their flourished heads between, and wrought
Mosaic. Under foot the Violet,
Crocus and Hyacinth, with rich inlay,
Broider'd the ground, more coloured than with stone
Of costliest emblem.
