Flora's Departure:
OR,
Summers Pride abated: In a Dialogue between OId
Father Winter and beautiful Summer.
To the Tune of, The Wheel of Fortune.
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FAir Flora beautiful and gay,
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to Winter now gives room,
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Who strips her off her rich aray
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made of the sweetest bloom,
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He with his icy Beard comes in,
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and looking her upon,
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To treat her thus he did begin,
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proud Flora now be gone.
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Here hast thou raign'd six months or more,
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in all thy gaudy pride;
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I come to warn thee now therefore,
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to lay thy Pomp aside;
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Thy Flowers which did bloom and blow,
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shall wither and decline,
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For in a word i let thee know,
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the Groves and Fields are mine.
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But Flora loft to leave the Streams,
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in which she took delight,
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And banish'd be from Summers beams;
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but slowly took her flight,
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What must I leave the Groves quoth she,
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which I have dect so fine
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With spreading bows one er'e Tree,
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why dost thou call them thine.
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Why must I leave those charming Notes,
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of Birds my woody quire,
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Who warbles forth from their sweet throats
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what tunes I do desire,
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Oh! stay a while cold Winter till,
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those pleasures all decline,
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And when the Floods do Rivers fill;
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my powers i'll resign.
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Go go proud Flora post away,
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make hast and hence begone,
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Believe me now what I do say,
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my Floods are coming on,
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i'll freze those pretty purling Springs,
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which by the us'd to glide,
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And wither all those lovely things,
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which puff the up with pride.
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Old Winter with a Icy Face,
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be not so harsh to me,
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For thou shall never here take place;
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while Leaves are on the Tree,
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For i'm a Charming beauty Deem'd,
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adorn'd with Flowers fine,
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My Company is more esteem'd
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ten thousand times then thine.
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is this a time to baffle me,
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now coming into power,
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i'll blast all that belongs to thee;
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and will thy joys devour,
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Thy Groves and Gardens far and near,
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shall look as if they die,
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Thou in thy time did'st domennear,
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so Flora now will i
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i'll take possesion of thy Bowers,
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in which thou did'st remain,
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i'll make them swim with flooting Showers
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and mighty storms of rain,
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On thy fair Hills and Vallies green
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so lovely to behold;
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There shall be nothing felt nor seen,
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But Fogs and frezing Could.
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i'll seize the North side of the Globe,
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with all my force and might,
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Thy Groves and Gardens i'll desrobe,
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and leave them naked quite,
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instead of Fruit which us'd to grow,
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on loded Vines and Trees,
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i'll bring vast Rocks of Ice and Snow.
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and all thy Brooks i'll freezs.
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Cold Winter never threaten so,
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i tell the once again,
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i'll melt those Rockes of Ice and Snow,
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then drink up all the rain,
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i'll thaw the Springs which thou did'st freze
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adorn and beautifie,
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My Gardens gay and Groves of trees,
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and make the glad to fly.
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if thou could'st have thy will i know,
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all ways to rule and raign,
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the fruitful Viends would barren grow,
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and yield no sort of grain,
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No blushing Fruits on trees would be,
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which might Mens pallates please,
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this is the cause all envys thee,
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for such like tricks as these.
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i know fair Flora that thou art
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belov'd far more then I,
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to speek the truth 'tis thy desart,
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therefore let us comply;
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Yet thou must give me leave a while,
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in power to remain,
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Next Spring thou shalt return and smile,
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on the fair Flore Plain.
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