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Chloris, Grecian Goddess of Flowers

To scorn the noble worker's thought, And quench the young aspiring flame; No answer gave the hero back, But to and fro he whisked the broom, And shouted as he cleared the track: "The noblest oak was once a seed, The choicest flower was but a weed, Unpinioned once the eaglet's wing, The river but a trickling spring, The swiftest foot must learn to creep, The proudest man must learn to sweep."

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