I
There is a flower, whose modest mein
Seems every gazer’s eye to shun;
It flourishes, and fades unseen,
Through tepid showers, or radiant sun.
II
Where warm affection sheds its tears,
O’er some lost friend’s remember’d tomb,
Spite of the blast, its head it rears,
And seems to court the kindred gloom.
III
No gay parterre its blossoms share,
It dwells not in the busy croud,
But seeks the wild heath, bleak, and bare,
Or dwells in lonely solitude.
IV
It decks the humble, lowly dell,
Remov’d afar, from vice, and strife,
Where resignation loves to dwell,
When ills betide this varying life.
V
Its blossoms bath’d in pearly dew,
Its drooping crest and tearful eye,
Its lovely tints of azure hue,
Are emblems dear of sympathy.