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And changeless plants, whose firmer breasts defy
The frosts of autumn, or the wintry sky.

Bring first the thornless Rose, of colors rare,
Fresh, bright, and graceful, from the florist's care,
That reared in bowers, where nought was ever found
To chill, depress, contaminate, or wound,
Knows no dark art to rouse the breath of strife,
And bears enchantment for the vale of life.

Mark well yon Lily, on its stately stem,
Whose snowy leaves conceal a polish'd gem,
Thou may'st not miss it in the loveliest train,
Nor once beheld, forget its charms again;
Go, bow to taste its fragrance, and request
The favoring presence of the cherish'd guest.
And thou, Mimosa, dear and trembling flower,
Come from thy cell,—unshrinking leave thy bower;
No pressure rude, thy folded buds shall harm,
No touch unkind thy tender leaves alarm;
Though in the world's rough journey thou may'st fear
Unkindred spirits, none shall meet thee here;