254 
poetry. 
© A present from thy Myra’s hand, 
‘¢ Shall live in smiles that never die; _ 
«© The flow’ret bound by Friendfhip’s hand, 
«© Shall drink the dew of Colin’s eye.” 
But ah ! transported from their beds, 
The lilies droop their snowy heads ; 
The rose’s crimson instant fades, 
And all that pleas’d so bright, so gay» 
Like beauty *mid deserted glades, 
In one fhort moment meets decay, 
No more the bud, in vernal greeny 
Flings softnefs on the roseate scene 5 
No more its blofsom to the eye, 
Presents the tufts of ruby dye 5 
No more the lily’s rich perfume, 
With odour fills the vaulted room ; 
A deadly pale succeeds the white, 
Nor rose, nor lily, gives delight. 
Ye fair, attend the moral strain! 
Nor let these flow’rets preach in vains 
Not eloquence by taste refin’d, 
Can thus instruct th’ ingenuous mind 5 
Nor all the sons of wit and art, 
Read better lectures to the heart. 
Fair as the lily’s virgin face, 
Pure emblem of unspotted grace, 
‘Where not a sombre tint Is seen, 
No, not amid the em’rald green. 
Bright as the rose, whose morning flufhy 
Faint emulates a modest blufh ; 
Where rising glory speaks a day 
f still increasing richer ray : 
Such is thé dawn of every fair, 
When op’ning first on life’s parterre > 
While sainted honour watching round, 
Secures the yet unsullied ground ; 
Whilst anxious angels vigils keep, 
Nor sufter Virtue once to sleep 5 
While friendly sprites without repose, 
Now guard the lily, now the rose. 
But fhould their charge, unhappy, rove 
Amid the wilds of lawlefs love ; 
Or if for Vice’s gilded maze, 
They leave fair Virtue’s peaceful ways, 
Or lur’d away by syren song, 
Break from the right, and choose the wrong 5 
Their lilies fade, their roses die, 
No more they charm th’ observer’s eye; 
And ev’ry friend to Virtne’s sway, 
Seraph and man fhall mourn the day, 
. 
Dec. 19. 
