VERSE. (You ask why in that garland fair)

You ask why in that garland fair, Where various sweets abound, A certain flow'r of merit rare Is no where to be found?

Why the same florist thought not meet To give that bloom its due? Since none can odours yield more sweet, Or boast a brighter hue.

Then know, the modest swain, my friend, Who cull'd those flow'rs so gay, Meant others worth to recommend, And not his own display.

But if this blooming wreath had been Twin'd by another's care, Dodsley, thy flow'r, we then had seen Shining distinguish'd there.