Flora’s Lesson

Flora once invited
   The senses to her bower,
Where, in perfection rare,
   Was every lovely flower.

But Hearing did not come
   To see these lovely flowers;
In Music’s cave was she,
   Where she often spent her hours.

And Taste, too, stayed away,
   To dine and sup with Fame;
And so, instead of five,
   Three senses only came.

Venus in her car
   Came on that very day
To ask a perfect flower
   For her to take away.

Said she, “You sister ladies
   Must choose a flower for me;
I’ll take it not unless
   ‘Tis liked by all the three.”

Said Flora, “There’s a flower,
   I know you’ll like it, when
I tell you which I mean:
   The Tulip of the Fen.”

Said Sight, “It pleases me,
   ‘Tis a lovely little bell;”
But her sister liked it not
   For it had a horrid smell.

“But say,” said she, “What plant
   With the Spice-flower rich can vie?”
“I like it not,” said Sight,
   “For it pleases not the eye.”

Said Smell, “The Rose will do,
   It covers Flora’s lands;”
But Touch directly said,
   “Thorns always hurt my hands!”

So not a single flower
Had suited all the three;
And Flora, smiling, said,
“Let this a lesson be.

“From things not perfect quite,
Turn not away in scorn;
For where was ever found
The Rose without a thorn?”

 

Written in 1832, when Anne Evans was twelve years old.

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