Fair Flora's Departure;
OR
Summer's Pride abated.
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FAIR FLORA, beautiful and gay, to winter now gives room,
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Who strip'd her of her rich array, made of the finest oom:
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He with his icy beard came in, and looking her upon,
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To treat her thus he did begin, Proud FLORA now begone:
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Here hast thou reign'd six months or more, in all thy gaudy pride,
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'Im come to summon thee therefore, to lay thy pomp aside;
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Your flowers that did bloom and blow, shall weather and decline,
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For in a word I tell thee plain, the fields and groves are mine.
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But FLORA, loth to leave the stream, in which she took delight,
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And banish'd be from summer's beams, but slowly took her flight:
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What must I leave these groves, said she, that I have deck'd so fine,
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With spreading bows on every tree, how can'st thou call them thine?
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Why must I leave the charming notes of birds, that woody choir,
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Who warble from their tuneful throats what notes I do require
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O stay a while cold Winter, till those pleasures all decline,
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And when the floods and rivers fill, my power I'll resign.
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Go, proud FLORA, post away, make haste, and hence begone,
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Believe me now what I do say, the floods are coming on;
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Ill freeze those pretty purling streams, which by thee us'd to glide,
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And wither all the lovely things, that puff thee up with pride.
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O'd Winter, with thy icy beard, be not so harsh to me;
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For thou shalt never here take place, while leaves are on a tree,
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For I'm a charming beauty bright, adorn'd with flowers fine;
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My company is more esteem'd ten thousand times then thine
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Is this a time to baffle me, now coming into power?
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I'll blast what does belong to thee, and all thy joys devour:
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Thy groves and gardens far and near shall look as tho' they die,
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Thou, in thy turn, didst domineer so FLORA now will I.
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I'll take possion of thy bowers, in which thou didst remain;
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Ill make them swim with floating showers, and mighty storms of rain:
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On thy fair hills and valleys green, so lovely to behold,
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There shall be nothing felt or seen, but fogs and freezing cold
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I'll freeze the north-side of the pole, with all my force and might,
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Thy groves and gardens I'll disrobe, and leave them naked quie;
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Instead of fruit that us'd to grow on loaded vines and trees,
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I'l bring vast rocks of ice and snow, and all thy banks will freeze
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Old Winter never threaten so, I tell thee once again
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Tho' for a while I hence must go, when 'tis my turn to reign;
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I'll thaw the gsprings that thou dost freeze, adorn and beautify
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My gardens oay, and groves and trees, and make thee glad to fly
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I know if thou could have thy will, always to rule and reign:
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The fruitful earth would barren grow, and give no sort of grain,
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No sweet fruits would ever grow, that might men's palates please;
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This is the cause all envy I thee, for such like tricks as these.
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I know fair FLORA, thou art better far belov'd than I:
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To speak the truth, 'tis thy desert, therefore I must comply,
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Yet you must give me leave some time in power to remain,
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Next spring you shall return and smile upon the flowery plain
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