THE LILY's TRIUMPH

The sun unveil'd his brightest ray, The birds attun'd their sweetest lay; As Flora issued from her bow'r, To shed perfumes on ev'ry flow'r. As she approach'd her painted train, With joy she view'd the chearful scene; This flow'r she kiss'd, and that she rais'd— She gather'd one, another prais'd; Yet still of all her gay parterre, The lily seem'd her greatest care; Meek child, the radiant goddess cried, Of gardens now be thou the pride. Know that Lucinda, beauteous fair! Doth thee to all my train prefer. Ah go beyond thy equals blest, And breathe thine odor on her breast; Yet envy not that iv'ry shrine, Whose whiteness far surpasseth thine; By nature's hand with incense spread, Whose sweetness far doth thine exeeed: Enough that thou enjoy'st the seat, Where virtue and the graces meet.