FABLE VIII.
The Anemone
and the Passion Flower.
I.
“BRIGHT flow’r renown’d in ancient times,
“Amidst the Cyprian shades;
“The theme of wonder and of praise
“To soft Sidonian maids.
II.
“Hail! Goddess-born! hail! thou produc’d
“From the bright mingled flood
“Of Venus’ tears, as bards have sung,
“And her Adonis’ blood.
III.
“Rich are thy blossoms in each hue
“That can inchant the fight;
“And strike at once the ravish’d eye
“With wonder and delight.
IV.
“Hail! sacred Plant, born but to shew
“Adonis’ yearly wound;
“By gentle Venus taught to bloom,
“With heav’nly beauties crown’d.”
V.
I said; when lo; an awful form
Upon my orgies broke;
And, like some bright cœlestial pow’r,
In lofty accents spoke:
VI.
“Hence, thou profane; nor wound me thus
“With thy unhallow’d song;
“But turn, and see, who blossoms here,
“To whom thy strains belong.
VII.
“The Tyrian Boy, and Venus’ self;
“Before my face shall fly;
“Their beauty gone, their lustre lost,
“And all their charms shall die.
VIII.
“I am the only flow’r on earth,
“With signs divine adorn’d;
“By me, of Heav’n thus favour’d high,
“All Pagan Gods are scorn’d.
IX.
“The purple ring, the bloody crown,
“The nails, and guilty spear,
“That slew the Lord of Life, behold
“In my symbolic sphere.
X.
“Deep to Lethéan shades my root
“Still downward seems to tend;
“As from the Cross’s sacred base,
“To Hell it would descend.
XI.
“Then here thy mis-plac’d rev’rence shew,
“And bow before this shrine;
“Where Angel Hosts themselves might pray,
“And own the Plant divine.”
XII.
She said; Adonis’ flow’ret bow’d,
As to superior pow’r;
My conscious heart was struck with dread;
Before the wond’rous flow’r.
XIII.
But whilst intent my rev’rence there
With honour due to pay;
The heav’ns withdrew their useful light,
And clos’d the hours of day.
XIV.
I look’d;—no more those signs I saw,
Which had my rev’rence drawn:
For ever shut the mirrour stood[15],
Which thus had grac’d the lawn.
XV.
A while I gaz’d; at length I cry’d,
And art THOU mortal too?
Are all THY sacred beauties fled,
Or faded on the view?
XVI.
Vain then is all external awe,
That images impart;
And He that rules above is best
Recorded in the heart.
Fab. IX.
The Lily & Narcissus
Fab. X.
The Ivy & Sweet Briar