The New Hampshire Gazette And General Advertiser

Parnassian's Spring.

THE ROSE.

EE, Delia, see the budding rose,
How fragrant and how fair!
Behold its leaves their folds disclose
And scent the ambient air.
The eyes, with pleased attention, gaze
Upon its op'ning charms;
Its image on the fancy plays,
And sweet sensations forms.
But soon its pleasing colours fade
Beneath the scorching sun;
Its beauties in the dust are laid,
And half its sweetness gone.
Just so the charms that deck the face,
And sparkle in the eye;
They bloom & please, a transient space,
They wither, droop and die.
Not thus the beauties of the mind,
Fair virtue's smiling train;
They brighter grow by time refined,
And constant youth maintain.
No nipping frosts nor gnawing worm,
Affect the well fix'd root;
No scorching heats, nor angry storms
Destroy the rip'ning fruit.
On every branch fresh blooms rise,
Each month, each week and day;
While constant crops of richer joys
The planter's cares repay.
Your mind, dear nymph, is virtue's
foil,
There sow the seeds of bliss:
So bounteous Heaven will crown your
toil,
And give a large increase.