Fair Flora's Departure; OR Summer's Pride abated.
FAIR FLORA, beautiful and gay, to winter now gives room,
Who strip'd her of her rich array, made of the finest oom:
He with his icy beard came in, and looking her upon,
To treat her thus he did begin, Proud FLORA now begone:
Here hast thou reign'd six months or more, in all thy gaudy pride,
'Im come to summon thee therefore, to lay thy pomp aside;
Your flowers that did bloom and blow, shall weather and decline,
For in a word I tell thee plain, the fields and groves are mine▪
But FLORA, loth to leave the stream, in which she took delight,
And banish'd be from summer's beams, but slowly took her flight.
What must I leave these groves, said she, that I have deck'd so fine,
With spreading bows on every tree, how can'st thou call them thine?
Why must I leave the charming notes of birds, that woody choir,
Who warble from their tuneful throats what notes I do require
O stay a while cold Winter, till those pleasures all decline,
And when the floods and rivers fill, my power I'll resign.
Go, proud FLORA, post away, make haste, and hence begone,
Believe me now what I do say, the floods are coming on;
Ill freeze those pretty purling streams, which by thee us'd to glide,
And wither all the lovely things, that puff thee up with pride▪
O'd Winter, with thy icy beard, be not so harsh to me;
For thou shalt never here take place, while leaves are on a tree,
For I'm a charming beauty bright, adorn'd with flowers fine;
My company is more esteem'd ten thousand times then thine
Is this a time to baffle me, now coming into power?
I'll blast what does belong to thee, and all thy joys devour:
Thy groves and gardens far and near shall look as tho' they die,
Thou, in thy turn, didst domineer so FLORA now will I.
I'll take possion of thy bowers, in which thou didst remain;
Ill make them swim with floating showers, and mighty storms of rain:
On thy fair hills and valleys green, so lovely to behold,
There shall be nothing felt or seen, but fogs and freezing cold
I'll freeze the north-side of the pole, with all my force and might,
Thy groves and gardens I'll disrobe, and leave them naked quie;
Instead of fruit that us'd to grow on loaded vines and trees,
I'l bring vast rocks of ice and snow, and all thy banks will freeze
Old Winter never threaten so, I tell thee once again
Tho' for a while I hence must go, when 'tis my turn to reign;
I'll thaw the gsprings that thou dost freeze, adorn and beautify
My gardens oay, and groves and trees, and make thee glad to fly
I know if thou could have thy will, always to rule and reign:
The fruitful earth would barren grow, and give no sort of grain,
No sweet fruits would ever grow, that might men's palates please;
This is the cause all envy I thee, for such like tricks as these.
I know fair FLORA, thou art better far belov'd than I:
To speak the truth, 'tis thy desert, therefore I must comply,
Yet you must give me leave some time in power to remain,
Next spring you shall return and smile upon the flowery plain