Fading Beauty

As poor Aurelia sate alone,
Hard by a rivulet's flow'ry side,
Envious at Nature's new-born pride,
Her slighted self she thus reflected on.

Alas! that Nature should revive
These flowers, which after Winter's snow
Spring fresh again, and brighter show,
But for our fairer sex so ill contrive!

Beauty, like theirs a short-liv'd thing,
On us in vain she did bestow,
Beauty that only once can grow,
An Autumn has, but knows no second Spring.