And Dryden, in his modernized version of the old poet, says,
At every turn she made a little stand,
And thrust among the thorns her lily hand
To draw the rose.
Eve's roses were without thorns--
"And without thorn the rose,"[129]
It is pleasant to see flowers plucked by the fairest fingers for some elegant or worthy purpose, but it is not pleasant to see them wasted. Some people pluck them wantonly, and then fling them away and litter the garden walks with them. Some idle coxcombs, vain
Of the nice conduct of a clouded cane,
amuse themselves with switching off their lovely heads. "That's villainous, and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it." Lander says
And 'tis my wish, and over was my way,
To let all flowers live freely, and so die.
Here is a poetical petitioner against a needless destruction of the little tenants of the parterre.
Oh, spare my flower, my gentle flower,
The slender creature of a day,
Let it bloom out its little hour,
And pass away.
So soon its fleeting charms must lie
Decayed, unnoticed and o'erthrown,
Oh, hasten not its destiny,
Too like thine own.