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.