Louisa May Alcott,
Morning-Glories and Other Stories…
(1867)
“ But the elves replied, as they pointed to a cluster of heart's-ease, dying for want of sun and air in the shadow of Lily's broad leaves: "In your white bosom lies a haughty heart, careless of all things but itself. We cannot crown you till you have learned the beauty of humility." Blushing with anger, the Rose demanded, as they passed her by: "Do you not see me? Am I not the queen of flowers, royal and sweet? Give me the crown: it is my right." But soft hands put the thorny branches back, and the elfin voices whispered: "Passion makes no flower fair, however royal be its birth. ”
