LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
THE QUEEN OF BEAUTY AND OF LOYE. 
Fair Goddess, with heart-searching eyes, 
In thy gold, dove-drawn car descend ; 
Lovely as when Olympian skies 
Above thy braided brow did bend ; 
When Love upon thee used to tend, 
And round thy sweet and matchless head 
Did wreaths of richest Roses blend, 
Blending the pale hue with the red, 
Like cheeks o’er which young blushes spread. 
Oh, visit us, fair as when thou 
Sank on thy loved Adonis’ breast, 
With all the flush which on thy brow 
Did at that very moment rest, 
When feigning death, thou feltest blest; 
The while thy rounded bosom rose, 
As does a bird’s within its nest, 
Hemmed in with buds of snow-white sloes; 
When kisses timed thy sweet repose. 
