Voice of Flowers/King Frost and the Garden Beauties

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Voice of Flowers (1846)
by Lydia Huntley Sigourney
King Frost and the Garden Beauties
4364226Voice of FlowersKing Frost and the Garden Beauties1846Lydia Huntley Sigourney


KING FROST, AND THE GARDEN BEAUTIES.

The Dahlia call'd to the Mignionette,
    And what do you think she said?
"King Frost has been seen in the vale below,"
    And she trembled and shook with dread.

"King Frost has been seen in the vale below,
    A marshalling forth his train—
Captain Gladiolus told me so,
    And brandish'd his sword in vain."

Then the Snow-Berry knock'd at the Woodbine's bower,
    Affrighted, and out of breath:
"Pray, give me a draught of water," said she;
    "I am growing as pale as death."

"Ah me!" the gay Carnation cried,
    "The Rose, on her dying day,
Bade me prepare for this solemn hour,
    But I've trifled my time away."


The Poppy complain'd that her sleep was broke
    By her neighbor's noise and fright;
And the Coxcomb said "'t was a burning shame
    To disturb a belle so bright."

Lady Larkspur nodded her graceful head,
    And beckon'd the fair Sweet-Pea,—
Do you credit this terrible news, my dear?"
    "I think 'tis but gossip," said she.

"Young Zephyr was here," said the Asters proud,
    "He made us a morning call,
And if there had been any truth in the tale
    He must surely have known it all:

"For the daily papers he always reads,
    As soon as they come from the press,
And if King Frost were at any hotel,
    'T would not be forgotten, we guess."

"'T is doubtless a hoax," said the Sun-Flower tall,
    "Don't you think that the higher powers
Would have seen that I was appris'd, before
    These pert little radical flowers?"


Yet still, Mimosa was nervous and faint,
    And Convolvolus feared to stir,
And the Mourning-Widow wept, though long
    The world had been dark to her.

But Amaranth smil'd, with a changeless eye,
    And the Constancy rose unbow'd,
For a deathless spirit of hope was theirs,
    And their trust was above the cloud.

That night, King Frost to the garden came,
    With all his legions, dread,
And laid the might of the proudest low,
    And left the fairest dead.