Dec.r 6. 1818.

Emblem of thee, O lovely maid

In blooming youth & sweetness grown;

Tho’ Roses every season fade,

Thy virtuous beauties have not flown.

Ah lovely flower! why now appear

To trust thy tender blossom'd form,

The Winter's chill dost thou not fear

Or shun the nipping frosty morn?

Considerate Rose, and didst thou dread

Ere summers Sun should see thy bloom,

A fairer flower might grace thy bed

And throw thee in continual gloom?

But whilst thou'rt cherish'd by that love,

Which greatly press'd thee to her breast;

And whilst thou'rt fondled as the dove

A sacred emblem from the nest,

Thy sweetness never shall depart,

Thy innocence, sweet emblem, rest,

Of her who, dearest to my heart,

Hath softly press'd thee to her breast.