FLORELIO.
19
Ripe strawberries for thee, and peaches, grew,
Sweet to the taste, and tempting red to view: 40
For thee the rose put sweeter purple on,
Preventing, by her haste, the summer sun:
But now the flow'rs all pale and blighted lie,
And in cold sweats of sickly mildew die;
Nor can the bees suck from the shrivell'd blooms 45
Ethereal sweets, to store their golden combs.
Oft' on thy lips they would their labours leave,
And sweeter odours from thy mouth receive;
Sweet as the breath of Flora when she lies
In jasmine shades, and for young Zephyr sighs: 50
But now those lips are cold; relentless Death [breath.
Hath chill'd their charms, and stopp'd thy balmy
Those eyes, where Cupid tipp'd his darts with fire,
And kindled in the coldest nymphs desire,
Robb'd of their beams, in everlasting night 55
Are clos'd, and give us woe as once delight;
And thou, dear Youth! hast left the lonely plain,
And art the grief, who wert the grace, of ev'ry British swain.
As in his bow'r the dying shepherd lay,
The shepherd yet so young, and once so gay! 60
The nymphs that swim the stream, and range the wood,
And haunt the flow'ry meads, around him stood;
Their tears down each fair cheek unbounded fell,
And as he gasp'd they gave a sad farewell.
"Softly," they cry'd, "as sleeping flow'rs are clos'd
"By night, be thy dear eyes by death compos'd: 66
Sweet to the taste, and tempting red to view: 40
For thee the rose put sweeter purple on,
Preventing, by her haste, the summer sun:
But now the flow'rs all pale and blighted lie,
And in cold sweats of sickly mildew die;
Nor can the bees suck from the shrivell'd blooms 45
Ethereal sweets, to store their golden combs.
Oft' on thy lips they would their labours leave,
And sweeter odours from thy mouth receive;
Sweet as the breath of Flora when she lies
In jasmine shades, and for young Zephyr sighs: 50
But now those lips are cold; relentless Death [breath.
Hath chill'd their charms, and stopp'd thy balmy
Those eyes, where Cupid tipp'd his darts with fire,
And kindled in the coldest nymphs desire,
Robb'd of their beams, in everlasting night 55
Are clos'd, and give us woe as once delight;
And thou, dear Youth! hast left the lonely plain,
And art the grief, who wert the grace, of ev'ry British swain.
As in his bow'r the dying shepherd lay,
The shepherd yet so young, and once so gay! 60
The nymphs that swim the stream, and range the wood,
And haunt the flow'ry meads, around him stood;
Their tears down each fair cheek unbounded fell,
And as he gasp'd they gave a sad farewell.
"Softly," they cry'd, "as sleeping flow'rs are clos'd
"By night, be thy dear eyes by death compos'd: 66
