Thornton, Robert John (1768?-1837) / Temple of Flora, or, Garden of the botanist, poet, painter, and philosopher.
Flora Jealous. To Doctor Thornton, on Receiving a Present of Some Beautifully Painted Plants from his Temple of Flora, to Decorate "The Poet's Cottage."
Compact the spot,. it prov'd her happiest pow'r; She knew 'twas good, and bless'd each op'ning flower. See! who that loves from Jealousy is free? FLORA now felt it- tho' a Goddess she. All "out of doors" she eyed with fond delight; (For all her fragrant children were in sight:)- Her PINK, her ROSE, her HYACINTHS were there, Shedding delightful odours through the air. Touch'd by the sweet enchantment of the scene, She deign'd a visit to the charms within; The Cot she enter'd; there beheld her flowers, Tho' cropt, still breathing all her balmy powers: Lovely 'midst thorns her BRIER, and ROSES gay, And many a petal charming in decay. Yet as around she cast her raptur'd eye, Bright'ning the walls, she saw a fresh supply: These gifts of yesterday began to fade, But sweets new-pluck'd were blooming in their stead. "All these," she cried, "are mine! and this fair spot "Shall henceforth boast the name of FLORA'S COT. "This RENEALMIA, this lov'd SNOWDROP too, "Display my magic Touch and matchless Hue; This tender SENSITIVE, this ALOE, sweet, "CEREUS and CYCLAMEN all Art defeat. "Yes, mine are all the lovely train I see, "Unrivall'd FLORA's beauteous Family." Self-charm'd she paus'd,-but soon, advancing near, She saw Art's Magic on the Walls appear; She saw another FLORA breathe, and glow, LOTUS unfold, and love-sick KALMIA blow. The Goddess gaz'd, and madd'ning with the smart, Felt the fierce anguish of a Jealous Heart. "And shall a mortal Pencil thus presume," She cried," to emulate my heav'nly Bloom? "Shall my own offspring thus untimely die, "And Art's frail progeny thus flourish nigh? "Shall these erect a TEMPLE of their own, "And I ascend a poor divided Throne? "Forbid it, NATURE" - NATURE rose to view; To meet whose arms the angry Goddess flew: Then told her tale, then pointed to the flowers, Whereon proud ART had lavish'd all her powers.: Till more indignant, as she more survey'd The imitation nice of light and shade, c
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