Classic Poem

I.

You gave me a rose, and bid me keep
From all my nymphs the fragrant gem;
But, sad mischance! while deep in sleep,
The lovely rose was stolen by them.
They kiss'd its leaves, and stole its dew,
To scent their own delicious breath,
And each to each the bright rose threw,
Until it sunk from bliss to death.

II.

Then every leaf that late had given
To nymphs as bright its odours sweet,
Whose breath was as the breath of heaven,
Was trod beneath the fair one's feet.
So like to thee, ill-fated flower,
Is he, who, trusting Beauty's eyes,
For though in bliss glides many an hour,
Yet grief o'ertakes him ere he dies.