Voice of Flowers/The Dahlia and Verbena
THE DAHLIA AND VERBENA
A tall and richly drest Dahlia boasted. She lifted up her head haughtily, as though she felt herself a queen. Her lips moved, and she was heard thus to soliloquize:—
"I alone, of all the flowers around, am truly beautiful. Which of them can compare with me, in elegance of dress, or dignity of deportment?
Yet I suffer for want of society. I cannot associate with those around, who are destitute of my accomplishments.
Here is an insipid Verbena at my feet, always trying to be sociable. She is so ill-bred as to smile, when I meet her eye, as if she were an acknowledged acquaintance.
It is in vain that I strive to convince her of her vulgarity. I cannot even look down without seeing her. I wish she would move away, and give place to some neighbor, more proper for one of my rank.
I doubt whether she even knows that my name is Lady Liverpool. I will throw her a withering frown, and see if it is not possible to repel her advances."
That night there came an early frost. The splendid robes of the Dahlia were ruined by its chilling touch. She hung her head in bitterness, and was ashamed to be seen.
But the little pale-cheeked Verbena, whom she had so long despised, looked meekly up, and spoke kind and cheering words. It had been sheltered from the frost by the drapery of its proud neighbor.
Forgetting the disdainful demeanor of the Dahlia, it tenderly ministered to its sorrows, and sent up its sweetest perfumes, to cheer her, like a cloud of incense.
And as I bent down, admiring its sympathy, there seemed to come from its meek example, a gentle voice, "Go thou and do likewise."