Amongst earth's fading beauties born to die, In light more radiant round heaven's golden throne You ftill fhall glitter, when its darken'd beams
The fun has quench'd, when stars refign their fires, When worlds are loft, to fade and weep no more. How foon, ye flow'ry tribes, muft ye decay! Yon lilly fee, the beauteous virgin queen Of all the gay creation---how the rears Her graceful head, majestically fair! Mark what an air of grandeur fhe affumes, That dignifies her aspect! If we view Her lofty elevated mein, array'd
In fhining luftre to attract the eye,
The monarch blazing on his eastern throne, In all his regal pomp, muft yet refign The prize of glory to a rival flower: Auguft and stately tho' fhe now appears, How swiftly does her fleeting bloom decay, The wonder of a few short tranfient morns : Soon her unspotted whiteness must retire, Her fnowy form defil'd, that head which foar'd So high and proud be humbled in the duft.
A noble grand fimplicity bestows Its merits on the lilly's virgin robe;
The gay and gaudy colours, richly spread In varied tints, augment the tulip's fame; See in what mix'd profufion, fplendid dyes, Her cups are beautify'd; her glowing streaks Strongly contracted, to each other lend A fairer radiance, a more lively bloom! How lately this each border's youthful pride, The reigning toast, that pleasingly adorn'd The fpring's delightful season with its bloom. A while it shines in all the glittering dyes That paint the rainbow's arch amidst a shower, Tranfient and fair, like that, it spreads a while, Its beauteous plumage---but, alas! how foon Are all its glories vanish'd, each gay ftripe How quickly loft, and splendid now no more, Each radiant beauty blended with the shade. Graceful her shape, each opening feature fair,
Still to augment her fame the budding rofe Breaths from her balmy breast a rich perfume: To this gay ftranger often we repeat
Our morning visits, and as oft at eve,
Ne'er wearied with the fweets, its leaves diffufe: A fragrance fo reviving, rich, and pure, Transpiring from its odorous buds, that all Covet its clofe acquaintance where it blooms. How oft have I beheld th' accomplish'd fair, The gay Clariffa, trembling at her eye,
For whom fo many penfive lovers bleed,
Careffing fondly on her raptur'd breast
This favou'rite flower, that bofom chofe its feat Which innocence and virtue make their home, Whose rival softness and unfpotted white Vies with the falling fnow: yet to increase Her charms, tho' faireft fhe among the fair Contracts more beauty from the damask'd rose, More sweetness from the odours it exhales. But ah! this lovely darling of the fair Its balm and native beauties must refign, Hanging how foon neglected on its stem, Or dropping its gay leaves upon the ground.
Pity, alas! our wishes want a power To give this darling bud a longer stay;
Blooming one vernal month, the next to fade :
pays us a fhort vifit, in the morn
Expands its glories, wither'd e'er the noon. This moment lovely, when the fun has steer'd
A few swift journeys more along the sky, The verdant fcene which entertains the eye, Each fenfe with each delight, fhall then appear A ragged defert, a rude wafteful wild,
A nursery of weeds instead of flowers.
Ye flow'ry tribes, how soon must ye decay! The winter, like fome conquering chief enrag'd, That carries defolation where he flies,
O'erturns the tottering tower, and dyes his sword In the deep bleeding wounds of millions flain, Now with his favage unrelenting rage
Hides all this blooming prospect in a fhade. The ftorms now gather, and the tempests pour Their rattling blafts that roar along the sky, And with united violence affail
All nature's treasures, threatening to destroy, Lay wafte, and ravage all her richest stores. Each tree its verdant foliage now refigns; Loft every fading beauty of the fields, Spoil'd of their waving harvests which array'd Their golden furrows: now the freezing glebe,
Difrob'd of all her gaudy gay attire, Mourns like a widow in fad fable drefs'd. The fun, now riding on his golden throne Triumphant, pouring from his radiant eye A flood of light, infpiring where he shines Each heart with gaiety, will faintly glow Soon with diminish'd luftre, from the fouth Cafting a tranfient glance, and foon to leave The gloomy world, o'ershadow'd with the night. The mournful turtle then no more must breathe Their penfive fongs to the foft gentle gales; Nor on the spray each eve indulge their woes; Mute now is every filent grove, the woods With tuneful harmony no longer found: How sweet the mufic lately which they breath'd, Made vocal by a thoufand warbling tongues!
Ye flowery tribes, how foon must ye decay! Yet, could your feeble texture be exchang'd For the oak's ftrength, that greater, which sustains The marble pyramid, how fhort your stay, How tranfient your duration! Can the flower Hope for existence long, when nature's frame
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