Volume 1 — From Chambers's Journal. A LIE.
Reading edition
A thistle grew in a sluggard's croft, Rough and rank with a thorny growth, With its spotted leaves, and its purple flowers (Blossoms of Sin, and bloom of Sloth); Slowly it ripened its baneful seeds, And away they went in swift gray showers. But every seed was cobweb winged, And they spread o'er a hundred miles of land. 'Tis centuries now since they first took flight, In that careless, gay, and mischievous band, Yet still they are blooming and ripening fast, And spreading their evil by day and night.
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