There, the shape of a rose, faithfully painted,
straying only a little from its true face,
matched, in its own crimson, the true purple,
and had tinged the earth with its own blood.
Joined with its companion flowers, there was present
the fragrant, pleasing flower of Adonis,
and the noble lily, with its own silver,
proclaimed the fields and the low places of the valleys.
There the thyme, arguing with its scent to stand apart,
strove, envying the rest of the flowers,
and, in fellowship with the flower of Narcissus, the streams
laughed, playfully, with a quiet murmur.
The columbine flower, with its flower-bearing face,
outshone the morning star of all the flowers,
and, speaking of the leisure of the spring season,
the little bloom of the violet starred the wild strawberry plant,
a face of the picture, full of favors.
Here the likeness of the flowers had been bidden to live,
which was a kind of royal charter, in a sense,
yet one unknown to any writing thumb.
These are the riches of spring, and its own mantles,
the beauty of the earth, and its own stars,
which the picture brought forth by its own arts,
fashioning flowers with a sophist's skill.
With these tunics of flowers, blooming green,
the lavish grace of spring ennobles the meadows.
These give it fine linen, those give it purple;
which the wise right hand of the west wind wove.