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66

Why seeks he with unwearied toil

66

Through death's dim walks to urge his way, "Reclaim his long-asserted spoil,

"And lead OBLIVION into day?

""Tis NATURE prompts, by toil or fear
"Unmoved, to range thro' death's domain:

"The tender parent loves to hear
"Her children's story told again.

"Treat not with scorn, his thoughtful hours, "If haply near these haunts he stray; "Nor take the fair enlivening flowers "That bloom to cheer his lonely way."

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THE TULIP AND THE MYRTLE".

"TWAS on the border of a stream
A gayly-painted Tulip stood,
And, gilded by the morning beam,

Surveyed her beauties in the flood.

This fable was first published in a Collection of Letters, sapposed to have passed between St. Evremond and Waller.

And sure, more lovely to behold,

Might nothing meet the wistful eye, Than crimson fading into gold,

In streaks of fairest symmetry.

The beauteous flower with pride elate,
Ah me! that pride with beauty dwells!
Vainly affects superior state,

And thus in empty fancy swells.

"O lustre of unrivalled bloom!

"Fair painting of a hand divine!

"Superior far to mortal doom,

"The hues of heaven alone are mine!

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Away, ye worthless, formless race!

"Ye weeds, that boast the name of flowers!

"No more my native bed disgrace,

"Unmeet for tribes so mean as yours!

"Shall the bright daughter of the Sun "Associate with the shrubs of earth?

"Ye slaves, your sovereign's presence shun! "Respect her beauties and her birth.

"And thou, dull, sullen ever-green! "Shalt thou my shining sphere invade? "My noon-day beauties beam unseen, "Obscured beneath thy dusky shade!"

"Deluded flower!" the Myrtle cries,
"Shall we thy moment's bloom adore?
"The meanest shrub that you despise,
"The meanest flower has merit more.

"That daisy in its simple bloom,

"Shall last along the changing year; "Blush on the snow of winter's gloom, "And bid the smiling spring appear.

F

"The violet, that, those banks beneath, "Hides from thy scorn its modest head, Shall fill the air with fragrant breath, "When thou art in thy dusty bed,

"Even I, who boast no golden shade, "Am of no shining tints possess'd, "When low thy lucid form is laid, "Shall bloom on many a lovely breast.

"And he, whose kind and fostering care
"To thee, to me, our beings gave,
"Shall near his breast my flowrets wear,
"And walk regardless o'er thy grave,

"Deluded flower, the friendly screen

"That hides thee from the noon-tide ray,

"And mocks thy passion to be seen, "Prolongs thy transitory day.

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