Sometimes the cut blossom is commiserated, as in
Adrift.
Ah! how my petals
Float in the flower-vase;
Helpless and rootless;
Sad is my lot.
Sometimes the operation of a natural law, to which plants as well as other forms of life are subject, points a moral:
Death, the Leveller.
Peonies, roses,
Faded, are equal;