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I. RUIT of Aurora's tears, fair Rose! On whose soft leaves fond Zephyrs play, O queen of flowers! thy buds disclose, And give thy fragrance to the day; Unveil thy transient charms:ah, no!   A little be thy bloom delay'd, Since the same hour that bids thee blow, Shall see thee droop thy languid head!

II. But go, and on Themira's breast Find, happy flower! thy throne and tomb! While, jealous of a fate so blest, How shall I envy thee thy doom!