Nature's Blunder

Flora at her task one day Pleas'd to grace her fav'rite May, Labour'd hard with might and main, Gay to deck the vernal plain. At length fatigu'd by various toil, And having finish'd off a foil, Good mother Night, come here, says she, A prettier leaf you never see, I made it for the dogwood tree. Quoth the old woman, 'tis well done, And if you please, I'll stick it on, For surely now you must be tir'd, Though by your fav'rite spring inspired; You've toil'd to make your meadows gay, Since first Aurora wak'd the day. This said the mystic gum she spied, And where the discus should be tried, The wrong end of the leaf applied. Heavens, cried Flora, what you've done! You've stuck the wrong end of it on! Quoth Night, no matter, pretty creature, 'Twill make variety in nature.