When Flora o'er the garden stray'd

When Flora o'er the garden stray'd And every blooming sweet survey'd, As o'er the dew dipt flow'rs she hung, Thus wrapt in joy she fondly sung; The early snow-drop, primrose pale, The tulip gay, the lily fair, Each slow'r that loads the scented gale Deserves their Flora's tender care, Deserves their Flora's tender care. But none of Summer's gaudy pride, Such sweetness breathe, or charms disclose, As that dear slow'r that blooms beside, None pleases like the blushing rose, As that dear slow'r, &c.

The balmy zephyrs round thee play, And golden suns exert their pow'r, To bring thy beauties to the day, And make thee Flora's fav'rite flow'r, And make thee Flora's fav'rite flow'r. A garland gay the nymphs and swains May make from ev'ry sweet that grows, And meaner things may please the plains: But thou art mine, thou lovely rose, And meaner things, &c.