See my Flavia gay and blooming
Now appears that blushing rose
Every vernal breeze perfuming
Zephyr o’er it gently blows
Soon alas! this queen of flowers
Will be subject to decay
Soon, too soon, will lose its powers
E’er we hail another day.
So my Fair though young and charming
Now you trip the verdant plain
With love’s gentle passion warming
Every fond admiring swain
Time will soon destroy those graces
Which your form and face disclose
Frail are e’en the fairest faces
Frailer than the fading rose.