The blushing Rose, The nightingale's young and gentle bride, Her delicate leaves begun to unclose, And spread to the sunshine her grace and pride; In tones that like audible perfume broke THE ROSE. "Beautiful spirit!—what grief is thine? Why doth thine eye With less love and joy on thy children shine? Bid each petaled bosom to heave with fear? Do we not ever rejoice to greet With tributes of homage? Beneath thy feet, O'er lawn and grove, Do we not lift up our heads to bless How have thy children displeased thee? Oh! look now around thee, Fairy, see And star-like blossom, and trembling leaf, Awaits thy wishes in fear and grief. Has the Jasmine's perfume become less sweet? Too eagerly flung her arms to greet Or has the Ceris-flower not blown? Sweet guardian, why is thine anger shown?" Then the Fairy besought the flowers to clear Were brighter than ever earth's flow'rets were: And she told them that much as she loved each face, Blooming around her in light and grace, Sometimes a sigh Would rise in her breast, a tear to her eye, As she thought on sweet Fairy-land's glittering sky; For though the hue, To earthly view, Of many a bud seemed soft and blue, There was not one Which recalled to her eye the exquisite shade Of which Fairy-land's radiant heaven was made. When this plaint had gone Wafting along o'er leaf and stem, Full many a flower Who deemed her own beauty a peerless gem, And sulkily shut up her leaves an hour Had gone to his rest in his western bower. One sly little bud resolved to see What the tint of this elfin heaven might be; Spread her gossamer wings, to fly away For a transient glimpse of her home so bright, There clung to her foot a seedling light Of the Commeline-flower-and up they go (While marvelled the Fairy what pinched her so) Aloft, aloft! On pinions soft, The Fairy flew onward with strengthening speed; And, taking heed To be mute, and still, and watchful, too, Went on the adventurous Commeline-seed. And when over them, clear, and bright, and high, |