A Rose

A ROSE, as fair as ever saw the North,, Grew in a little garden all alone;, A sweeter flower did Nature ne'er put forth,, Nor fairer garden yet was never known:, The maidens danced about it morn and noon,, And learned bards of it their ditties made;, The nimble fairies by the pale-faced moon, Water'd the root and kiss'd her pretty shade., But well-a-day!--the gardener careless grew;, The maids and fairies both were kept away,, And in a drought the caterpillars threw, Themselves upon the bud and every spray., God shield the stock! If heaven send no supplies,, The fairest blossom of the garden dies.