Poems on several occasions By William Broome ... The second edition, With large Alterations and Additions |
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On a Flower which Belinda gave me from her Bosom.
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 | Poems on several occasions |  |
168
On a Flower which Belinda gave me from her Bosom.
O! lovely Offspring of the May,
Whence flow thy balmy Odours, say!
Such Odours—not the Orient boasts,
Tho' Paradise adorn'd the Coasts!
O! sweeter than each Flow'r that blooms,
This Fragrance from thy Bosom comes!
Thence, thence such Sweets are spread abroad,
As might be Incense for a God!
Whence flow thy balmy Odours, say!
Such Odours—not the Orient boasts,
Tho' Paradise adorn'd the Coasts!
O! sweeter than each Flow'r that blooms,
This Fragrance from thy Bosom comes!
Thence, thence such Sweets are spread abroad,
As might be Incense for a God!
When Venus stood conceal'd from View,
Her Son, the latent Goddess knew,
Such Sweets breath'd round! and thus we know
Our other Venus here below.
Her Son, the latent Goddess knew,
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Our other Venus here below.
But I see! my Fairest, see this Flow'r,
This short-liv'd Beauty of an Hour!—
Such are thy Charms!—yet Zephyrs bring
The Flow'r to bloom again in Spring:
But Beauty, when it once declines,
No more to warm the Lover shines:
Alas! incessant speeds the Day,
When thou shalt be but common Clay!
When I, who now adore, may see,
And ev'n with horrour, start from Thee!
This short-liv'd Beauty of an Hour!—
Such are thy Charms!—yet Zephyrs bring
The Flow'r to bloom again in Spring:
But Beauty, when it once declines,
No more to warm the Lover shines:
Alas! incessant speeds the Day,
When thou shalt be but common Clay!
When I, who now adore, may see,
And ev'n with horrour, start from Thee!
But e'er, sweet Gift, thy Grace consumes,
Show thou my Fair-one how she blooms!
Put forth thy Charms:—and then declare
Thy self less sweet, thy self less fair!
Then sudden, by a swift Decay,
Let all thy Beauties fade away:
And let her in thy Glass descry,
How Youth, and how frail Beauty die.
Show thou my Fair-one how she blooms!
Put forth thy Charms:—and then declare
Thy self less sweet, thy self less fair!
170
Let all thy Beauties fade away:
And let her in thy Glass descry,
How Youth, and how frail Beauty die.
Ah! turn, my Charmer, turn thy Eyes!
See! how at once it fades, it dies!
While thine,—it gaily pleas'd the View
Unfaded, as before it grew!
Now, from thy Bosom doom'd to stray,
'Tis only beauteous in Decay:
So the sweet-smelling Indian Flow'rs
Griev'd when they leave those happier Shores,
Sicken, and die away in ours.
So Flow'rs, in Eden fond to blow,
In Paradise would only grow.
See! how at once it fades, it dies!
While thine,—it gaily pleas'd the View
Unfaded, as before it grew!
Now, from thy Bosom doom'd to stray,
'Tis only beauteous in Decay:
So the sweet-smelling Indian Flow'rs
Griev'd when they leave those happier Shores,
Sicken, and die away in ours.
So Flow'rs, in Eden fond to blow,
In Paradise would only grow.
Nor wonder, Fairest, to survey
The Flow'r so suddenly decay!
Too cold thy Breast! nor can it grow
Between such little Hills of Snow?
The Flow'r so suddenly decay!
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Between such little Hills of Snow?
I now, vain Infidel, no more
Deride th'Ægyptians, who adore
The rising Herb, and blooming Flow'r;
Now, now their Convert I will be,
O lovely Flow'r, to worship thee.
Deride th'Ægyptians, who adore
The rising Herb, and blooming Flow'r;
Now, now their Convert I will be,
O lovely Flow'r, to worship thee.
But if thou'rt one of their sad Train
Who dy'd for Love, and cold Disdain,
Who chang'd by some kind pitying Pow'r;
A Lover once, art now a Flow'r;
O pity me, O weep my Care,
A thousand, thousand Pains I bear,
I love, I die thro' deep Despair!
Who dy'd for Love, and cold Disdain,
Who chang'd by some kind pitying Pow'r;
A Lover once, art now a Flow'r;
O pity me, O weep my Care,
A thousand, thousand Pains I bear,
I love, I die thro' deep Despair!
| Poems on several occasions | |