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SELECTION OF POEMS.
JUDGMENT OF FLOWERS.
]far from the busy haunts of men,
Still fancy paints, with nature's pen,
Hast thou not seen, at ev'ning hour,
Reclin'd in some sequester'd bow'r
Hast thou not mark'd them cull with care
To deck the breast, or bind the hair,
And still expressive of the mind The emblematic gift was found;Whether to mournful thought inclin'd, Or with triumphal gladness crown'd.
Near Avon's banks, a cultur'd spot,
Was once an aged shepherd's cot,
Who scenes of greater splendour scorn'd.
Three beauteous daughters bless'd his bed,
And every sweet by Flora spread,
Once, when still ev'ning veil'd the sky,
The sire walk'd forth, and sought the bow'r,
And bade the lovely maids draw nigh,
The first with radiant splendour charm'd,
A variegated tulip chose;
Preferr'd the sweetly blushing rose.
The third, who mark'd with depth of thought,
An ev'ning primrose only brought,
The sage awhile in silence view'd
And then (with wisdom's gift endu'd)
"Who chose the tulip's splendid dyes,
That vainly proud, not greatly wise,
"The rose, though beauteous leaves and sweet
Its glorious vernal pride adorn: Let her who chose, beware to meet
The biting sharpness of its thorn.
"But she, who, to fair daylight's train,
Chose real worth, nor chose in vain,
"Ambitious thou! the tulip race
Caught with sweet pleasure's rosy grace,
"Thou prudent still to virtue's lore,
He ceas'd—attend the moral strain
The muse enlighten'd pours; Nor let her pencil trace in vain,
The judgment of the flow'rs.
WRITTEN BY DR. BERNARD WILSON,
Iii anttcer lo a scurilous Paper.
'whoe'er' thon art that thus hath tried
To blast my reputation, And under colour of disguise, To spread this defamation.
Appear thou in thy proper shape,
In print assert thy name;
Determine who's to blame.
To stab in secret with a tale
The brave will always shun,
And dare not face the sun.
Thy malice then must be in vain,
And fruitless thy design; Because to injure is thy aim,
And to forgive is mine.