And all betoken’d general ruin:
While each, to make their party good,
Brib’d the vile shrubs and underwood:
And now the Bramble and the Thistle
Sent forth essay, ode, epistle;
To which anon, with equal mettle,
Replied the Thorn and stinging Nettle.
“What’s to be done, or how oppose
The storm which in the forest rose?”
Grief shook the mighty monarch’s mind,