


104 
FLORAL POESY. 
When true hearts lie wither’d, 
And fond ones are flown, 
Oh! who would inhabit 
This cold world alone ? 
GATHER YOUR ROSES. 
ANTHOLOGIA OXONINESIS. 
Live while you live, my boys! 
Yet while the lamp doth shine ; 
Gather your roses 
Ere they decline. 
Man makes himself both cares and pains ; 
He seeks for thorns, and thorns he gains : 
But lets, alas! unheeded pass 
The violet in his way. 
Live while you live, my boys ! 
Yet while the lamp doth shine ; 
Gather your roses 
Hre they decline. 
ODE. 
ANACREON (TRANSLATED BY MOORE.) 
Buns of roses, virgin flowers 
Culled from Cupid’s balmy bowers, 
In the bowl of Bacchus steep, 
Till with crimson drops they weep ! 
