Written in a Flower Book Of my own colouring, designed for Lady Plymouth, 1753-4

BRING, Flora, bring thy treasures here,
The pride of all the blooming year,
And let me thence a garland frame
To crown this fair, this peerless, dame!

But, ah! since envious Winter lours,
And Hewell meads resign their flow'rs,
Let Art and Friendship's joint essay
Diffuse their flow'rets in her way.

Not Nature can, herself, prepare
A worthy wreath for Lesbia's hair,
Whose temper, like her forehead, smooth,
Whose thoughts and accents form'd to sooth,
Whose pleasing mien, and make refin'd,
Whose artless breast, and polish'd mind,
From all the nymphs of plain or grove
Deserv'd and won my Plymouth's love!