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A FLOWER GARDEN.
TELL me, ye Zephyrs ! that unfold, While fluttering o'er this gay Recess, Pinions that fanned the teeming mould Of Eden's blissful wilderness, Did only softly-stealing Hours There close the peaceful lives of flowers ?
Say, when the moving Creatures saw
Or peeped they often from their beds
All Summer long the happy Eve
Yet, where the guardian Fence is wound,
And, though the jealous turf refuse
And hither throngs of Birds resort ; Some, inmates lodged in shady nests, Some, perched on stems of stately port That nod to welcome transient guests ; While Hare and Leveret, seen at play, Appear not more shut out than they.
Apt emblem (for reproof of pride)