I hope this little plant beneath your care
And kindly-culturing hand will stronger grow
Let it sometimes adorn your bosom fair
Nor all its sweet perfumes in vain bestow.
I wish when peaceful resting near your heart
Its branch could know what virtues it concealed,
A fairer dye would all its leaves impart,
And to oblige me, kinder odours yield.
What tho’ ’tis not in flowery tents arrayed
Nor ever boasts a bloom of color bright,
What tho’ unmasked it lifts its humble head,
Nor feels ambition to attract the sight;
Yet still its virtues unimpeached remain
Its sweeter scent not lilies can excel
E’en years its balmy fragrance it retains
Theirs oft is withered by each ruder gale
Veritas