ROSE. 107 



INVITATION TO A ROSE. 



S3IITH. 



Queen of fragrance, lovely Rose, 



The beauties of thy leaves disclose ! 



The winter's past, the tempests fly, 



Soft gales breathe gently through the sky; 



The lark, sweet warbling on the wing, 



Salutes the gay return of Spring; 



The silver dews, the vernal showers, 



Call forth a bloomy waste of flowers ; 



The joyous fields, the shady woods. 



Are clothed with green, or swell'd with buds. 



Then haste thy beauties to disclose. 



Queen of fragrance, lovely Rose ! 



The same. — anon. 

 Nursed by the zephyr's balmy sigh. 



And cherish'd by the tears of morn ; 

 Oh, queen of flowers ! awake ! arise ! 



Oh haste, delicious Rose, be born ! 



Unheeding wish! no — yet awhile. 

 Be yet awhile thy dawn delay'd ; 



Since the same hour that sees thee smile 

 In orient bloom, shall see thee fade. 



The same. — bo wring. 

 Rose of the morning, in thy glowing beauty, 

 Bright as the stars, and delicate and lovely, 



10* 



