“For ME, great Nature’s high behest; “Contented I fulfil; “Nor dream that aught by _her_ ordain’d, “Can ever end in _ill_.
“_Go thou, fond youth, and_ VIRTUE’S _charge_ “_With equal care obey:_ “_Then ev’ry Weed shall prove a Flow’r,_ “_To strew thy destin’d way._”
[Illustration: _Fab. XXI. The Crown Imperial and Heartsease._]
[Illustration: _Fab. XXII. The Water Lily._]
Lo! where from Persia’s warmer clime, And ancient Bactria’s land; With interwoven purple wrought, The ensign of command,
The CROWN IMPERIAL rears aloft His rich and gorgeous head, And, pointing to the distant sky, Bids all his glories spread.
Beneath, in humbler station plac’d, The fair VIOLA grew, Which the lov’d name of _Heart’s-Ease_ bears, Whose pow’r can Care subdue.
The purple monarch swell’d with ire, Indignant to behold The flow’ret blooming near his side, And thus his anger told;
“Rash flow’r, seest thou my aweful state, “That speaks the garden’s king? “See’st thou th’ Imperial Crown that decks, “And gems that round me spring.
“I from the East my lineage draw, “Where chief of flow’rs I rise; “And amidst thousands raise my fame, “Ev’n to the starry skies.
“Go then, base daughter of the earth! “Near some vile cottage grow; “Nor give thy paltry race to rise “Where my bright blossoms blow!”
The sweet VIOLA inly mourn’d The boaster’s ill-plac’d pride; And, while this answer she return’d, The flow’r with pity ey’d:
“Great is the boast, I own, she said, “Of pomp and scepter’d pow’r; “But _greater_ are the blessings found “In life’s serener hour.
“_Thee_ purple honours still adorn, “Which teach thy leaves to shine; “But to breathe fragrance on the day, “Proud plant! was never _thine_.
“That _I_ am stranger to thy race, “The cause is plain to tell; “For when did _Heart’s-Ease_ ever deign “With _crowned heads_ to dwell?
“ME still in life’s more humble vale “Most certain will you find; “There most _my_ simple sweets are known, “Where Fortune proves least kind.
“Go learn, _That neither wealth nor pomp_ “_True blessings can bestow_; “_On sweet_ CONTENT _alone await_ “_All joy and bliss below_.”
Within a crystal riv’let bright, Whose sides, with verdure crown’d, From shelving banks reflected wide The landscape bord’ring round,