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Thou fair and frail! So shall thou prove the truth,
That he who doth associate with the wise,
Shall in their wisdom share.
                                         Narcissus pale!
Had you a mother, child, who kept you close
Over your needle or your music books?
And never bade you sweep a room, or make
A pudding in the kitchen? I'm afraid
She shut you from the air, and fervid sun,
To keep you delicate, or let you draw
Your corset-lace too tight. I would you were
As hardy as your cousin Daffodil,
Who to the sharp wind turns her buxom cheek
Unshrinking, like a damsel taught to spin,
Or milk the cows, and knead the bread, and lead
A useful life, her nerves by labor strung
To bear its duties and its burdens too.

Lilac of Persia! tell us some fine tale
Of Eastern lands. We're fond of travellers.
Have you no legend of some Sultan proud?
Or old fire-worshipper? Not even one note
Made on your voyage? Well, 'tis wondrous strange,
That you should let so rare a chance slip by,