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That simple Primrose fair, resembles too
The sensible and cultivated mind,
Which shuns the trifling vain parade of show,
Who lives by virtue's boundaries confin'd.
The sensible and cultivated mind,
Which shuns the trifling vain parade of show,
Who lives by virtue's boundaries confin'd.
That Lily gently waving with the breeze,
Is the fair image of the beauteous maid,
Who seeks by diffidence alone to please,
In neat and simple elegance array'd.
Is the fair image of the beauteous maid,
Who seeks by diffidence alone to please,
In neat and simple elegance array'd.
That fragrant Woodbine, now so bright in bloom,
Curling its tendrils round its firm support,
Must wither in the killing hand of time,
And lie neglected on the self-same spot.
Curling its tendrils round its firm support,
Must wither in the killing hand of time,
And lie neglected on the self-same spot.
That noble Piony, which now shines forth
In all its glowing beauty to the eye,
Shall mingle with the soil that gave it birth,
And all its glories in oblivion lie.
In all its glowing beauty to the eye,
Shall mingle with the soil that gave it birth,
And all its glories in oblivion lie.
