The Rose Bud

Queen of Fragrance, Lovely Rose
The Beauties of thy Leaves disclose!
The Winter's past, the Tempests fly
Soft Gales breathe gently thro' the Sky;

The Lark, sweet warbling on the Wing
Salutes the gay Return of Spring:
The silver Dews, the vernal Show'rs
Call forth a bloomy Waste of Flow'rs;

The joyous Fields, the shady Woods
Are clothed with Green or swell with Buds;
Then haste thy Beauties to disclose
The Queen of Frangrancе, lovely Rose!

Beautеous Flow'r, a welcome Guest
Shalt flourish on the Fair-one's Breast
Shalt grace her Hand, or deck her Hair
The Flow'r most sweet, the Nymph most fair;

Breathe soft, ye Winds! Be calm, ye Skies!
Arise ye flow'r Race, arise!
And haste thy Beauties to disclose
Queen of Fragrance, lovely Rose!

But thou, fair Nymph, thy self survey
In this sweet Offspring of a Day;
That Miracle of Face must fail
Thy Charms are sweet, but Charms are frail:

Swift as the short-liv'd Flow'r they fly
At Morn they bloom, at Evening die:
Tho' Sickness yet a while forbears
Yet time destroys what Sickness spares;

Now Helen lives alone in fame
And Cleopatra's but a Name
Time must indent that heav'nly Brow
And thou must be, what they are now

This Moral to the Fair disclose
The Queen of Fragrance, lovely Rose