Ode: the Rose

Lyrics

I. Sweet serene skye-like Flower, Haste to adorn her Bower : From thy long clowdy bed, Shoot forth thy damaske head. II. New-startled blush of Flora ! The griefe of pale Aurora, Who will contest no more ; Haste, haste, to strowe her floore. III. Vermilion Ball that's given From lip to lip in Heaven ; Love's Couches cover-led : Haste, haste, to make her bed. IV. Dear Offspring of pleas'd Venus, And Jollie, plumpe Silenus ; Haste, haste, to decke the Haire Of th' only, sweetly Faire. V. See ! Rosie is her Bower, Her floore is all this Flower ; Her Bed a Rosie nest By a Bed of Roses prest. VI. But early as she dresses, Why fly you her bright Tresses ? Ah ! I have found I feare ; Because her Cheekes are neere.