Who still of cold in Spring’s own realms complains.
XXXVII.
Not one of these, but from their various store
Some off’ring meet to lovely Flora pay;
Not one of these, but with that off’ring more,
And her soft reign most willingly obey.
XXXVIII.
Ev’n Winter’s self, with look averted, throws,
His thin-strewn flow’rets on the goddess’ shrine;
Ev’n his cold bosom for a moment glows,