On seeing a Rose-bush in bud, in December , 1788.

See yonder Rose-bush fresh, and fair,
'Mid brumal blasts, and gloomy skies,
In all its vernal charms appear,
In all its pristine beauties rise!
Such Portia, such thy steady form!
Contemning still the grasp of time
It stands uninjured by the storm,
And buds, and blooms in vernal prime.