POETRY OP FiOWEB.8. 
95 
THE ROSE. 
This precious flower, whose “ Paradise of leaves” has 
been sung with all the attributes of surpassing loveliness by 
the poets of every country on which it is bestowed, has per¬ 
haps never been more beautifully described than by Bishop 
Jeremy Taylor, when he compares its charms and fleeting 
existence to the life of man. 
Go, lovely Rose! 
Tell her that wastes her time and me, 
That now she knows, 
When I resemble her to thee, 
How sweet and fa'ir she seems to be. 
Tell her that’s young, 
And shuns to have her graces spied, 
That hadst thou sprung 
In deserts, where no men abide, 
Thou must have uncommended died. 
Small is the worth 
Of beauty from the light retired; 
Bid her come forth, 
Suffer herself to be desired, 
And not blush so to be admired. 
Then die, that she 
The common fate of all things rare 
