"On Myra's breast the opening rose shall blow,
Reflecting from her cheek a livelier bloom;
For Stella shall the bright carnation glow—
Beneath her eyes' bright radiance meet its doom.
"Smart pinks and daffodils shall Flavia grace,
The modest eglantine and violet blue
On gentle Amoret's placid brow I'll place—
Of elegance and love an emblem true."
In gardens oft a beauteous flow'r there grows,
By vulgar eyes unnoticed and unseen;
In sweet security it humbly blows,
And rears its purple head to deck the green.
This flower, as nature's poet sweetly sings,
Was once milk-white, and hearts-ease was its name;
Till wanton Cupid pois'd his roseate wings,
A vestal's sacred bosom to inflame;
With treacherous aim the god his arrow drew,
Which she with icy coldness did repel;
Rebounding thence with feathery speed it flew,
Till on this lonely flow'r at last it fell.
Heart's-ease no more the wandering shepherds found,
No more the nymphs its snowy form possess;
Its white now chang'd to purple by Love's wound,
Heart's-ease no more, 'tis "Love in Idleness."
"This flow'r with sweet-brier join'd shall thee adorn,
Sweet Jessie, fairest 'mid ten thousand fair!
But guard thy gentle bosom from the thorn,
Which, tho' conceal'd, the sweet-brier still must bear.
"And place not Love, tho' idle, in thy breast,
Tho' bright its hues, it boasts no other charm—
So may thy future days be ever blest,
And friendship's calmer joys thy bosom warm !"
But where does Laura pass her lonely hours?
Does she still haunt the grot and willow-tree?
Shall Silvio from his wreath of various flowr's
Neglect to cull one simple sweet for thee?
"Ah, Laura, no," the constant Silvio cries,
"For thee a never-fading wreath I'll twine;
Though bright the rose, its bloom too swiftly flies,
No emblem meet for love so true as mine.