Classic Poem

Hail lovely flower, first honour of the year!
Hail beautious earnest of approaching spring!
Whose early buds unusual glories wear,
And of a fruitfull year fair omens bring.

Be thou the favorite of the indulgent sky,
Nor feel the inclemencies of wintry air;
May no rude blasts thy sacred bloom destroy;
May storms howl gently o'er and learn to spare.

May lambent zephyrs gently wave thy head,
And balmy spirits thro' thy foliage play,
May the morn's earliest tears on thee be shed,
And thou impearl'd with dew appear more gay.

May throngs of beautious virgins 'round thee crowd,
And view thy charms with no malignant eyes:
Then scorn those flowers to which the Ægyptians bow'd,
Which prostrate Memphis own'd her deities.

If mix'd with these, divine Cleora smile,
Cleora's smiles a genial warmth dispense;
New verdure ev'ry fading leaf shall fill,
And thou shalt flourish by her influence.

But while I sing, the nimble moments fly,
See! Sol's bright chariot seeks the western main,
And ah! behold the shriveling blossoms die,
So late admir'd and prais'd, alas! in vain!

With grief this emblem of mankind I see,
Like one awaken'd from a pleasing dream,
Cleora's self, fair flower, shall fade like thee,
Alike must fall the poet and his theme.