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Poem	LITTLE leaves and flow'rets too, Scatter we with gentle hand, Kind young spring-gods to the view, Sporting on an airy band. Zephyr, bear it on the wing, Twine it round my loved one's dress; To her glass then let her spring, Full of eager joyousness. Roses round her let her see, She herself a youthful rose. Grant, dear life, one look to me! 'Twill repay me all my woes, What this bosom feels, feel thou. Freely offer me thy hand; Let the band that joins us now Be no fragile rosy band! 1770.
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