Classic Poem

Little leaves and flow'rets too,
Scatter we with gentle hand,
Kind young spring-gods to the view,
Sporting on an airy band.

Zephyr, bear it on thy wing,
Twine it round my loved one's dress;
To her glass then let her spring,
Full of eager joyousness.

Roses round her let her see,
She herself a youthful rose.
Grant, dear life, one look to me!
'Twill repay me all my woes.

What this bosom feels, feel thou,
Freely offer me thy hand;
Let the band that joins us now
Be no fragile rosy band!