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Charlotte Smith - Song I
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FROM THE FRENCH OF CARDINAL BERNIS. 
I. 
FRUIT of Aurora`s tears, fair rose,
On whose soft leaves fond zephyrs play,
Oh! queen of flowers, thy buds disclose,
And give thy fragrance to the day;
Unveil thy transient charms:--ah, no!
A little be thy bloom delay`d,
Since the same hour that bids thee blow,
Shall see thee droop thy languid head.

II. 
But go! and on Themira`s breast
Find, happy flower! thy throne and tomb;
While, jealous of a fate so blest,
How shall I envy thee thy doom!
Should some rude hand approach thee there,
Guard the sweet shrine thou wilt adorn;
Ah! punish those who rashly dare,
And for my rivals keep thy thorn.

III. 
Love shall himself thy boughs compose,
And bid thy wanton leaves divide;
He`ll show thee how, my lovely rose,
To deck her bosom, not to hide:
And thou shalt tell the cruel maid
How frail are youth and beauty`s charms,
And teach her, ere her own shall fade,
To give them to her lover`s arms.
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