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.