Sonnet V Poem by Robert Anderson

TO A ROSE IN ELIZA'S BOSOM.

Thou sweetest flow'r that decks the enamell'd bed,
Say, little rival, by my love confess'd,
Why dost thou hide thy sweets and droop thy head,
Why fade so near Eliza's snowy breast?
When May return'd with all her sportive train,
I saw thee budding in thy fragrant seat--
O that 'twere mine the lily hand to gain
That gently pluck'd thee from thy lone retreat!
Hail, blushing Rose! an emblem of my fair,
In thee Eliza's sweetness let me trace;
Thy bloom the beauty that adorns her face,
Thy fragrant smell her breath that scents the air:
Sweet flow'r! thy beauties bloom but for a day,
Just like her charms, that ere life's eve must fade away!