The POPPY and the SUN-FLOWER.
I.
Transplanted from the neighb’ring mead,
Which long her presence grac’d;
The crimson POPPY rear’d her head,
In the rich garden plac’d.
II.
Thence, fann’d by many a gentle gale,
Full oft her scent is borne;
Both when the ev’ning shades prevail,
And at the rise of morn.
III.
At noon, when ev’n without her aid
The flow’rs all droop’d around;
CLYTIE, bright PHŒBUS’ love-sick maid,
With all his glories crown’d,
IV.
Still turning to his orb her face,
Survey’d th’ intruding guest;
And, foe to ev’ry sleepy pow’r,
The stranger thus address’d;
V.
“Long have we seen each field-flow’r bloom
“Our cultur’d gardens shame:
“Which, hither brought, triumphant rise,
“And share our nobler fame:
VI.
“Thou, drowsy POPPY, too, at last,
“Our rival dost appear,
“Replete with drugs, whose pois’nous strength
“Corrupts the ambient air.
VII.
“But think not here, insulting weed!
“(Fair CERES’ hate and bane)
“Thy drowsy magic shall prevail,
“To blot our brighter reign.
VIII.
“Go, seek thy fields; with noxious weeds
“Divide detested sway:
“Or, where thy slumbers nought disturb,
“Shun the glad face of day.
IX.
“Whilst I, to PHŒBUS ever true,
“Rejoicing in his light;
“To the great God his tribute pay,
“And check the pow’rs of Night.”
X.
She spoke;—The nodding POPPY then,
Serene, made this reply:
“Proud flow’r, I envy not thy state,
“Nor coat of richest dye.
XI.
“What boast’st thou of his genial pow’r,
“Who slighted all thy charms;
“And, in thy beauty’s brightest noon,
“Fled to another’s arms?
XII.
“How didst thou mourn, and how revenge?
“LEUCOTHOE speaks thy crime;
“Whose odours still to Heav’n ascend,
“And shall to latest time.