Classic Poem

Bedeck yourselves ye wanton flow'rs,
In all your finest blooms;
Awake, ye softly thrilling powr's
My rosy PHEBE comes.

She comes, and with the smiling MAY,
Whilst 'mid the blossom'd trees;
Young gamesome, morning Zephyrs, play
The odorif'rous breeze.

See, yonder Cowslip hangs its head,
Because the Nymph's more fair;
And daises o'er the dappled mead,
Announce my charmer there.

Her foremost in floralion dance,
Mark o'er the shady green;
To greet, whilst villagers advance,
My PHEBE, and their Queen.

As tokens of their grateful love,
The nymphs and shepherds bring;
Rich primrose garlands, fitly wove,
And woo the welcome spring.

Their dulcit throats, the tuneful Choir
In sweeter notes distend;
And turtles coo with fond desire,
And pines, and poplars, bend.

As lovers, to the rivlet's tide,
The pliant willows bow;
And graceful o'er its verdrous side,
What pinks and vi'lets grow.

This for my PHEBE, virgins, this,
Creation now is gay;
I'll hail her with a faithful kiss,
And welcome genial MAY.