Page:Elegiac Sonnets 1.pdf/94

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Should some rude hand approach thee there, Guard the sweet shrine thou wilt adorn; Ah! punish those who rashly dare, And for my rivals keep thy thorn.

III. Love shall himself thy boughs compose, And bid thy wanton leaves divide; He'll shew thee how, my lovely Rose, To deck her bosom, not to hide: And thou shalt tell the cruel maid How frail are Youth and Beauty's charms, And teach her, ere her own shall fade, To give them to her lover's arms.