FRAGMENT.
AH! once as Cupid did repose
Warm in the bosom of a rose,
Then that queenly flower was pale
As the fair lily of the vale.—
Alas! the god with careless eye
Sees not the thorns that round her lie
Warm in the bosom of a rose,
Then that queenly flower was pale
As the fair lily of the vale.—
Alas! the god with careless eye
Sees not the thorns that round her lie
Won by Rosa's flattering smile
He dreams not of her subtle guile.—
Oh! trusting child, her thorns soon prove
But ill repaid is thy warm love;
The crimson drops thy bed they stain'd,
And red since then the rose remain'd.
He dreams not of her subtle guile.—
Oh! trusting child, her thorns soon prove
But ill repaid is thy warm love;
The crimson drops thy bed they stain'd,
And red since then the rose remain'd.
