Flowers Under Canopy
Our Saint to-night is proud to bring
The choicest Beauties of the Spring
To breathe their Fragrance here:
In Splendor each Carnation vies
To be esteem’d the fairest prize
That decks the growing year.
Each shelter’d from the Sun’s rude Power,
Protected from the ruder Shower,
In cloister’d Safety dwells.
Many the Rose and Pink admire,
Or yellow Daffodil desire,
And some the fair Blue-Bells.
But you, Sir, I would dare surmise
Will not disdain to take the Prize
Now offer’d to your View:
The fairest, finest, opening Flow’r,
That here adorns this festive Hour
May haply fall to you.
If then, within a Mile or so,
Which is not very far to go,
You see such Beauties grown,
Within a Twelvemonth deign to wed,
The fairest, from its native Bed
Transplanted to your own.