# Voice of Flowers/Flora's Party

FLORA'S PARTY.
Lady Flora gave cards for a party at tea,
To flowers, buds, and blossoms of ev'ry degree;
So from town and from country they thronged at the call, And strove, by their charms, to embellish the hall.
First flock'd the exotics, with ornaments rare,
The tall Oleander and Heliotrope fair;
Camella, resplendent with jewels new set,
And changeful Hydrangia, the heartless coquette.
The Tulips came flaunting in gaudy array, With Hyacinths, bright as the eye of the day;
Dandy Coxcombs and Daffodils, proudly polite,
With their dazzling red vests, and their corsets laced tight;
While the Soldiers in Green, cavalierly attired,
Were all by the ladies extremely admired;
But the beautiful Lily, with bosom of snow,
Complain'd that those officers star'd at her so,
She was strangely confus'd, and would like to be told
What they saw in her manners that made them so bold.
There were Myrtles and Roses from garden and plain,
And Venus's Fly Trap, they brought in their train;
So the beaux cluster'd round them, they hardly knew why,
At each smile of the lip, or each glance of the eye.
Madame Damask a robe had from Paris brought out,
The envy of all who attended the rout;
Its drapery was folded, her form to adorn,
And clasp'd at the breast with a diamond-set thorn.
Yet she, quite unconscious, 't would seem, of the grace
That enchanted all groups who frequented the place,
Introduced, with the sweetest of words in her mouth,
The young Multiflora,—her guest from the South.
Neighbor Cinnamon prated of household and care,—
How she seldom went out, even to breathe the fresh air;
There were so many young ones and servants to stray,
And the thorns grew so fast if her eye was away:
"Cousin Moss-Rose," she said, "you who live like a queen,
And ne'er wet your fingers, scarce know what I mean."
So that notable lady went on with her lay,
'Till the auditors yawned, and stole softly away.
The sweet Misses Woodbine, from country and town,
With their brother-in-law. Colonel Trumpet, came down;
And Lupine, whose azure eye sparkled with dew,
On Amaranth leaned, the unchanging and true;
While modest Clematis appeared as a bride,
And her husband, the Lilac, ne'er moved from her side—
Tho' the Dahlias all giggled, and said, "'T was a shame
For a young married chit, such attention to claim;
They had travell'd enough, in all conscience, to tell
What the ton was abroad, where the great people dwell,
But were ne'er at a ball, or soiree in their life,
Where a city-bred gentleman spoke to his wife."
Mrs. Piony came in, quite late, in a heat, With the Ice-plant, new-spangled from forehead to feet.
Lobelia, attired like a queen in her pride, And the Larkspurs, with trimmings new furbished and dyed,
And the Blue-bells and Hare-bells in simple array,
With all their Scotch cousins, from highland and brae.
Acacias and Marigolds clustered together, And gossiped of scandal, the news, and weather,
What dresses were worn at the wedding so fine
Of Counsellor Thistle, and fair Columbine;
Of the loves of Sweet-William, and Lily, the prude,
'Till the clamors of Babel again seem'd renewed.
In a little snug nook sate the Jessamine pale,
And that pure, fragrant Lily, the gem of the vale;
The meek Mountain-Daisy, with delicate crest,
And the Violet, whose eye told the Heaven in her breast;
While allur'd to their side, were the wise ones, who bow'd
To that virtue which seeks not the praise of the crowd.
But the proud Crown Imperial, who wept in her heart
That modesty gained of such homage a part, Looked haughtily down on their innocent mein,
And spread out her gown, that they might not be seen.
The bright Lady-slippers, and Sweet-briars agreed
With their slim cousin Aspens a measure to lead;
And sweet 't was to see their light footsteps advance,
Like the wing of the breeze, thro' the maze of the dance;
But the Monk's-hood scowl'd dark, and in utterance low,
Declared "'t was high time for good Christians to go;"
He 'd heard from the pulpit a sermon sublime,
Where 't was proved from the Vulgate—"To dance was a crime."
So, wrapping a cowl round his cynical head,
He snatch'd from the side-board a bumper, and fled.
A song was desired, but each musical flower
Had—"taken a cold, and 't was out of her power;"
'Till sufficiently urged, they burst forth in a strain
Of quavers and trills, that astonished the train.
Mimosa sat shrinking, and said, with a sigh,
"'Twas so fine, she was ready with rapture, to die;"
And Cactus, the grammar-school tutor, declared
"It might be with the gamut of Orpheus compared."
But Night-shade, the metaphysician, complained
That "the nerves of his ears were excessively pained;
'T was but seldom he crept from the college," he said,
"And he wished himself safe in his study, or bed."
Lady Flora, 't was thought, had a taste for design,
And her skill in embroidery all felt to be fine;
So the best of her pictures, for tinting and shade,
Were all on this pleasant occasion displayed.
Her visitors vied in expressions of praise, And exhausted the store-house of elegant phrase;
Tho' some grave connoisseurs in a circle must draw,
Their acuteness to show by detecting a flaw.
Miss Carnation took her eye-glass from her waist,
And pronounc'd they were scarce in good-keeping, or taste, While prim Fleur de lis in her robe of French silk,
And magnificent Calla, with mantle like milk,
Of the Louvre recited a wonderful tale,
And how "Guido's rich tints made dame Nature look pale."
Signer Snow-Ball assented, and ventured to add
An opinion, that "all Nature's coloring was bad;"—
He had thought so, e'er since a short period he spent,
To muse on the paintings of Rome, as he went
To visit his friend Rhododendron, who chose
An abode on the Alps, in a palace of snows.
But he took, on Mont Blanc, a most terrible chill,
And since his return had been pallid and ill.
Half-wither'd Miss Hackmetack studied her glass,
And hop'd with her cousins, the Spruces, to pass;
But Ivy, the sage antiquarian, who knew
Every cycle, 'twas said, that Chronology drew,
Thro' his near-sighted optics, descrying her late,
Discompos'd her, by asking some aid in a date;
So she pouted her lips, and said, tartly, with scorn,
She "could not remember before she was born."
Old Jonquil, the crooked-back'd beau, had been told,
That a tax would be laid on old bachelors' gold,
So he lac'd down his hump, pre-determined to try
The long disus'd weapons of Cupid, so sly, Sought out half open'd buds in their infantine years,
And ogled them all, till they blushed to their ears.
Philosopher Sage, on a sofa was prosing, With good Dr. Chamomile quietly dozing,
'Though the Laurel descanted, with eloquent breath,
Of heroes and battles, of victory and death;
Of the conquests of Greece, and Bozzaris, the brave,—
"He had trod in his footsteps, and sigh'd o'er his grave."
Farmer Sunflower stood near, entertaining a guest,
With the crops he had rais'd, and the cheeses he prest;
For the true-hearted soul deem'd a weather-stained face,
Or a toil-harden'd hand, were no marks of disgrace.
Then he beckon'd his nieces to rise from their seat,
The plump Dandelion, and Butter-cup neat,
And bade them to "pack up their duds, and away,
He believ'd in his heart 'twas the break of the day.
"And high time it is, for good people," said he,
"At home, and in bed, with their households to be."
'Twas indeed very late,—and the coaches were brought,
For the grave matron flowers of their nurseries thought;
The lustre was dimmed of each drapery rare,
And the lucid young brows looked beclouded with care;
All, save the bright Cereus,—that nymph so divine,
Who preferr'd through the curtains of midnight to shine:
Now with congees, and curtseys, they moved to the door,
But the White Poppy nodded ere parting was o'er,
For Night her last candle was snuffing away,
And Flora grew tired, though she begged them to stay;
Exclaimed, "all the watches and clocks were too fast,
And old Time fled in spite, lest her pleasure should last."
Yet when the last guest went, with daughter and wife,
She vowed she "was never so glad in her life;"
Called out to her maids, who with weariness wept,
To "wash all the glasses and cups ere they slept,
For Aurora, that pimp, with her broad staring eye,
Would be pleas'd, in her house, some disorder to spy."—
Then drank some pure honey-dew, fresh from the lawn,
And with Zephyrons hastened to sleep until dawn.