COME, ye fair, ambrosial flowers, Leave your beds, and leave your bowers, Blooming, beautiful and rare, Form a posy for my fair; Fair, and bright, and blooming be, Meet for such a nymph as she. Let the young vermilion rose A becoming blush disclose; Such as Laura's cheeks display, When she steals my heart away. Add carnation's varied hue, Moisten'd with the morning dew: To the woodbine's fragrance join Sprigs of snow white jessamine. Add no more; already I Shall, alas! with envy die, Thus to see my rival blest, Sweetly dying on her breast. |