A Song (Sent to Chloe with a Rose)

Yes, every flower that blows
I pass'd unheeded bye,
Till this enchanting rose
Had fix'd my wand'ring eye;

It scented every breeze,
That wanton'd o'er the stream,
Or trembled through the trees,
To meet the morning beam.

To deck that beauteous maid,
Its fragrance can't excel,
From some celestial shade
The damask charmer fell;

And as her balmy sweets,
On Chloe's breast she pours,
The queen of Beauty greets
The gentle queen of Flowers.