Flower Poetry Fridays: Flora’s Party

Welcome back to Flower Poetry Fridays with Mrs. Sigourney. Each Friday a new poem will be posted from her The Voice Of Flowers.

FLORA’S PARTY.

LADY FLORA gave cards for a party at tea,
To flowers, buds, and blossoms of ev’ry degree ;
So from town and from country they thronged at the call,
And strove, by their charms, to embellish the hall.
First flock’d the exotics, with ornaments rare,
The tall Oleander and Heliotrope fair ;
Camella, resplendent with jewels new set,
And changeful Hydrangia, the heartless co-
quette.
The Tulips came flaunting in gaudy array,
With Hyacinths, bright as the eye of the day ;
Dandy Coxcombs and Daffodils, proudly polite,
With their dazzling red vests, and their corsets
laced tight ;
While the Soldiers in Green, cavalierly at-
tired,
Were all by the ladies extremely admired ;
But the beautiful Lily, with bosom of snow,
Complain’d that those officers star’d at her so,
She was strangely confus’d, and would like to
be told
What they saw in her manners that made them
so bold.

There were Myrtles and Roses from garden
and plain,
And Venus’s Fly Trap, they brought in their
train ;
So the beaux cluster’d round them, they hardly
knew why,
At each smile of the lip, or each glance of the
eye.
Madame Damask a robe had from Paris brought
out,
The envy of all who attended the rout ;
Its drapery was folded, her form to adorn,
And clasp’d at the breast with a diamond-set
thorn.
Yet she, quite unconscious, ‘t would seem, of
the grace
That enchanted all groups who frequented the
place,
Introduced, with the sweetest of words in her
mouth,
The young Multiflora, — her guest from the
South.
Neighbor Cinnamon prated of household and
care,—
How she seldom went out, even to breathe the
fresh air ;

There were so many young ones and servants to stray,
And the thorns grew so fast if her eye was away :
"Cousin Moss-Rose," she said, "you who live like a queen,
And ne’er wet your fingers, scarce know what I mean."
So that notable lady went on with her lay,
‘Till the auditors yawned, and stole softly away.

The sweet Misses Woodbine, from country
and town,
With their brother-in-law, Colonel Trumpet,
came down ;
And Lupine, whose azure eye sparkled with
dew,
On Amaranth leaned, the unchanging and
true ;
While modest Clematis appeared as a bride,
And her husband, the Lilac, ne’er moved from
her side—
Tho’ the Dahlias all giggled, and said, "’Twas
a shame
For a young married chit, such attention to
claim ;

They had travell’d enough, in all conscience,
to tell
What the ton was abroad, where the great
people dwell,
But were ne’er at a ball, or soiree in their life,
Where a city-bred gentleman spoke to his
wife."

Mrs. Piony came in, quite late, in a heat,
With the Ice-plant, new-spangled from fore-
head to feet,
Lobelia, attired like a queen in her pride,
And the Larkspurs, with trimmings new fur-
bished and dyed,
And the Blue-bells and Hare-bells in simple
array,
With all their Scotch cousins, from highland
and brae.
Acacias and Marigolds clustered together,
And gossiped of scandal, the news, and wea-
ther,
What dresses were worn at the wedding so
fine
Of Counsellor Thistle, and fair Columbine ;
Of the loves of Sweet-William, and Lily, the
prude,
‘Till the clamors of Babel again seem’d re-
newed.

In a little snug nook sate the Jessamine pale,
And that pure, fragrant Lily, the gem of the
vale ;
The meek Mountain-Daisy, with delicate
crest,
And the Violet, whose eye told the Heaven in
her breast ;
While allur’d to their side, were the wise ones,
who bow’d
To that virtue which seeks not the praise of
the crowd.
But the proud Crown Imperial, who wept in
her heart
That modesty gained of such homage a part,
Looked haughtily down on their innocent
mein,
And spread out her gown, that they might not
be seen.

The bright Lady-slippers, and Sweet-briars agreed
With their slim cousin Aspens a measure to lead;
And sweet ‘t was to see their light footsteps advance,
Like the wing of the breeze, thro’ the maze of the dance ;

But the Monk’s-hood scowl’d dark, and in
utterance low,
Declared "’t was high time for good Christians
to go;"
He’d heard from the pulpit a sermon sublime,
Where ‘t was proved from the Vulgate—"To
dance was a crime."
So, wrapping a cowl round his cynical head,
He snatch’d from the side-board a bumper,
and fled.

A song was desired, but each musical flower
Had "taken a cold, and ‘t was out of her
power;"
‘Till sufficiently urged, they burst forth in a
strain
Of quavers and trills, that astonished the train.
Mimosa sat shrinking, and said, with a sigh,
"’T was so fine, she was ready with rapture,
to die;"
And Cactus, the grammar-school tutor, de-
clared
"It might be with the gamut of Orpheus com-
pared."
But Night-shade, the metaphysician, com-
plained
That "the nerves of his ears were excessively
pained ;

‘T was but seldom he crept from the college,"
he said,
"And he wished himself safe in his study, or
bed."

Lady Flora, ‘t was thought, had a taste for
design,
And her skill in embroidery all felt to be fine ;
So the best of her pictures, for tinting and
shade,
Were all on this pleasant occasion displayed.
Her visitors vied in expressions of praise,
And exhausted the store-house of elegant
phrase ;
Tho’ some grave connoisseurs in a circle must
draw,
Their acuteness to show by detecting a flaw.

Miss Carnation took her eye-glass from her
waist,
And pronounc’d they were scarce in good-
keeping, or taste,
While prim Fleur de lis in her robe of French
silk,
And magnificent Calla, with mantle like milk,
Of the Louvre recited a wonderful tale,
And how "Guido’s rich tints made dame Na-
ture look pale."

Signor Snow-Ball assented, and ventured to
add
An opinion, that "all Nature’s coloring was
bad;"—
He had thought so, e’er since a short period he
spent,
To muse on the paintings of Rome, as he
went
To visit his friend Rhododendron, who chose
An abode on the Alps, in a palace of snows.
But he took, on Mont Blanc, a most terrible
chill,
And since his return had been pallid and ill.

Half-wither’d Miss Hackmetack studied her
glass,
And hop’d with her cousins, the Spruces, to
pass ;
But Ivy, the sage antiquarian, who knew
Every cycle, ’twas said, that Chronology drew,
Thro’ his near-sighted optics, descrying her
late,
Discompos’d her, by asking some aid in a date ;
So she pouted her lips, and said, tartly, with
scorn,
She "could not remember before she was
born."

Old Jonquil, the crooked-back’d beau, had been
told,
That a tax would be laid on old bachelors’
gold,
So he lac’d down his hump, pre-determined to
try
The long disus’d weapons of Cupid, so sly,
Sought out half open’d buds in their infantine
years,
And ogled them all, till they blushed to their
ears.

Philosopher Sage, on a sofa was prosing,
With good Dr. Chamomile quietly dozing,
Though the Laurel descanted, with eloquent
breath,
Of heroes and battles, of victory and death ;
Of the conquests of Greece, and Bozzaris, the
brave,—
"He had trod in his footsteps, and sigh’d o’er
his grave."

Farmer Sunflower stood near, entertaining a guest,
With the crops he had rais’d, and the cheeses he prest ;
For the true-hearted soul deem’d a weather-stained face,
Or a toil-harden’d hand, were no marks of dis-grace.
Then he beckon’d his nieces to rise from their seat,
The plump Dandelion, and Butter-cup neat,
And bade them to "pack up their duds, and
away,
He believ’d in his heart ’twas the break of
the day.
"And high time it is, for good people," said
he,
"At home, and in bed, with their households
to be."

‘Twas indeed very late,—and the coaches
were brought,
For the grave matron flowers of their nur-
series thought ;
The lustre was dimmed of each drapery rare,
And the lucid young brows looked beclouded
with care ;
All, save the bright Cereus,—that nymph so
divine,
Who preferr’d through the curtains of midnight
to shine :

Now with congees, and curtseys, they moved
to the door,
But the White Poppy nodded ere parting was
o’er,
For Night her last candle was snuffing away,
And Flora grew tired, though she begged them
to stay ;
Exclaimed, "all the watches and clocks were
too fast,
And old Time fled in spite, lest her pleasure
should last."
Yet when the last guest went, with daugh-
ter and wife,
She vowed she "was never so glad in her
life ;"
Called out to her maids, who with weariness
wept,
To "wash all the glasses and cups ere they
slept,
For Aurora, that pimp, with her broad staring
eye,
Would be pleas’d, in her house, some disorder
to spy."—
Then drank some pure honey-dew, fresh from
the lawn,
And with Zephyrons hastened to sleep until
dawn.

Wow, Flora’s Party sounds like a magical one that I’d like to attend. I couldn’t help thinking of Alice in Wonderland as I read Flora’s Party. My mind was picturing all kinds of animated flowers coming from far and wide to attend such a gala.

I liked how the different flowers were given characteristics they have in real life, like “Dr. Chamomile quietly dozing”. We all know that Chamomile tea is taken for relaxation and its calming effect, so having the chamomile character asleep at the party was very fitting.

Miss Carnation, Cactus the grammar-school tutor, and Farmer Sunflower are my other favorite characters.

Come back next Friday for the next installment in our series of flower poems from Mrs. Sigourney’s The Voice of Flowers, “The Tulip and Eglantine”.