University of Virginia Library


215

Song

[Now hath Flora rob'd her bowers]

Now hath Flora rob'd her bowers
To befrend this place with flowers;
Strowe aboute, strowe aboute,
The Skye rayn'd never kindlyer Showers.
Flowers with Bridalls well agree,
Fresh as Brides, and Bridgromes be:
Strowe aboute, strowe aboute,
And mixe them with fit melodie.
Earth hath no Princelier flowers
Then Roses white, and Roses red,
But they must still be mingled.
And as a Rose new pluckt from Venus thorne,
So doth a Bride her Bride-groomes bed adorne.
Divers divers Flowers affect
For some private deare respect;
Strowe about, strowe about,
Let every one his owne protect.
But hees none of Floras friend
That will not the Rose commend.
Strow about, strow about,
Let Princes Princely flowers defend.
Roses, the Gardens pride,
Are flowers for love and flowers for Kinges,
In courts desir'd and Weddings.
And as a Rose in Venus bosome worne,
So doth a Bridegroome his Brides bed adorne.