Classic Poem

OR, THE ROSE AND STRAWBERRY .

Young women! don't be fond of killing,
Too well I know your hearts unwilling
To hide beneath the vail a charm —
Too pleased a sparkling eye to roll,
And with a neck to thrill the soul
Of every swain with love's alarm

Yet, yet, if prudence be not near
Its snow may melt into a tear.

The dimple smile, and pouting lip,
Where little Cupids nectar sip,
Are very pretty lures I own:
But, ah! if prudence be not nigh,
Those lips where all the Cupids lie,
May give a passage to a groan.

A Rose, in all the pride of bloom,
Flinging around her rich perfume,
Her form to public notice pushing,
Amid the summer's golden glow,
Peeped on a Strawberry below,
Beneath a leaf, in secret blushing.

" Miss Strawberry, " exclaimed the Rose,
" What's beauty that no mortal knows?
What is a charm, if never seen?
You really are a pretty creature:
Then wherefore hide each blooming feature?
Come up, and show your modest mien. "

" Miss Rose, " the Strawberry replied,
" I never did possess a pride
That wished to dash the public eye:
Indeed, I own that I 'm afraid —
I think there 's safety in the shade,
Ambition causes many a sigh. "

" Go, simple child, " the Rose rejoined,
" See how I wanton in the wind:
I feel no danger's dread alarms:
And then observe the god of day,
How amorous with his golden ray,
To pay his visits to my charms! "

No sooner said, but with a scream
She started from her favorite theme —
A clown had on her fixed his pat.
In vain she screeched — Hob did but smile;
Rubbed with her leaves his nose awhile,
Then bluntly stuck her in his hat.