A Sentimental Lady Sate

A sentimental lady sate
Lamenting thus a rose's fate,
As thirty of them, nay threescore,
Bard-bitten all, have done before.
"My sweet and lovely one! ah why
Must you so soon decay and die? "
"I know not," with soft accents said,
And balmy breath the Rose, ' ' kind maid!
I only know they call me fair,
And fragrant in this summer air.
If youths should push their faces down
On mine, I smile, but never frown,
And never ('twere affected) say
So much as ' wanton! go away?
I would not wish to stop behind
And perish in the wint'ry wind.
I have had sisters; all are gone
Before me, and without a moan.
Be thou as sweet and calm as they,
And never mind the future day."