The DEADLY NIGHTSHADE

“Detested weed, enrag’d, I said, “That spread’st thy poison’d train “In this fair land, midst blooming flow’rs, “Which grace the happy plain!

“Thy baleful root most surely springs “From deep Tartarean shade; “By envious Dæmons nurs’d below, “In Stygian gloom array’d.

“Thee CIRCE, and MEDÆA too, “In black enchantment us’d; “With baneful plants most fitly mix’d, “In hellish steams suffus’d.

“Ah! why does Parent NATURE form, “Such works, her works to spoil; “And by her own hand teach mankind, “Infernal arts and guile?

“Say, fell Enchantress of the plain, “The foe of human-kind? “Say for what crimes man’s hapless race “From thee such evils find!

“Oh! quit the woods, the plains, the fields, “Where health and plenty bloom: “Retire to rocks and desart-wilds, “Or shade the Murd’rer’s tomb.

“Or rather haste to PLUTO’S realm; “There hide thy hated head, “And flourish still unrival’d there; “Where Styx’ nine streams are spread.

“But here may ev’ry healing flow’r “In prime of beauty bloom: “To sick’ning Man restoring health, “And shedding rich perfume!”

I ceas’d—The Flow’r indignant heard; And all its leaves display’d A deep’ning gloom, which flung around A double NIGHT OF SHADE.

“Insulting Man!” she trembling cry’d, “Of creatures most unjust; “Still taxing Nature with those faults, “Sprung from his evil lust.

“The poison’d Snake, the noxious Weed, “Earth’s venom’d juices drain; “And, more than all yon’ fragrant flow’rs, “Enrich with health the plain.

“Nay of my race grows many a plant, “Which, of rich gifts possest, “The sage Physician culls with care, “To ease the Patient’s breast.

“Let Man his own wild passions tame, “And hush them into Peace; “MEDÆA’S wand, and CIRCE’S cup, “Were innocent to these.

“For ME, great Nature’s high behest; “Contented I fulfil; “Nor dream that aught by her ordain’d, “Can ever end in ill.

“Go thou, fond youth, and VIRTUE’S charge “With equal care obey: “Then ev’ry Weed shall prove a Flow’r, “To strew thy destin’d way.”