TO MY ROSE.
Bright queen of flowers, O! Rose, gay blooming,
How lovely are thy charms to me!
Narcissus proud, pink unassuming,
In beauty vainly vie with thee;
When thou midst Flora's circle shinest,
Each seems thy slave confessed to sigh,
And thou, O! loveliest flower, divinest,
Allur'st alone the passer's eye.
To change thy fate the thought has struck me,
Sweet Rose, in beauty, ah! how blest,
For fair Eliza I will pluck thee,
And thou shalt deck her virgin breast:--
Yet, there thy beauties vainly shining,
No more predominance will claim,
To lilies, all thy pride resigning,
Thou'lt yield without dispute thy fame.