The modest Rose puts forth a thorn, the humble Sheep a threat'ning horn; While the Lilly white shall in love delight, nor a thorn, nor a threat, stain her beauty bright...

Ah, Sun-flower!
Weary of time,
Who count-est the steps of the sun;
Seeking after the sweet golden clime,
Where the traveller's journey is done;

Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves, and aspire
where my sun-flower wishes to go...