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F L O W E R
Belinda gave me from her Bosom.
By Mr. BROO ME.
SAX, lovely Off-spring of the May,
AY, lovely Off-spring of the May,
So sweetly fair, fo richly gay; Say, where a Flow'r so beauteous grows, Or whence thy balmy Odour flows. Such balmy Odour is not found, On Indian nor Arabian Ground: A Store of such a rich Perfume Must from Belinda's Bosom come; Thence, thence such Sweets are spread abroad As might be Incense for a God.
But while, sweet Gift, thy Glories laft,
And lo! it droops, and fades, and dies,
So the sweet-smelling Indian Flow'rs, Griev'd when they leave those happy Shores, Sicken and pine away in ours.
I now, as once I did, no more
But if thou’rt one of their fad Train,
Ovid. Amor. Eleg. 16. Lib. 2.
VL MO's one Third of the Pelinian Land,
Whose little Space indulgent Nature framd For all the Pleasures of a sweet Retreat; And here has bounteous Fortune fix'd my Seat: Here o'er the Grounds a pleasing Verdure spreads, And the bright Streams enamel all the Meads; Here Corn and Wine enrich the fruitful Fields, And the kind Soil the luscious Olive yields: Tho'
now the raging Dog-Star mounted high Cleaves the parch'd Earth,and blasts the sultry Sky;
Yet shady Groves, where a refreshing Breeze
i ; With you I'd trust my Sails to Southern Wind; To Scylla’s Rock, Charybdis-Gulph resign’d And cast all Fear of future Ills behind :