BOTANY.
TO MARY, WITH A BUNCH OF FLOWERS.
Nay! say not faded—'tis despair
Has thus subdued them, for they see
That in themselves however fair,
They ne'er can hope to equal thee!
The Rose's joyous blush has fled,
With which no other lip could vie;
The Heartsease turns aside its head,
Fearing to meet thy deep-blue eye.