When fair ones and gay ones for love advertise
’Tis time for the God to send speedy supplies:
Then freshen your roses, your ringlets prepare,
Tomorrow ill bring the reward of your care.
But who comes tomorrow? The Muses’ delight!
Caprices and favors like theirs I write:
The primrose and pink in my countenance shew
That mine is the beauty intended for you.
’Tis true I make fools; but the wisest declare
They copy me oft in my humour and air;
Like you I bring gladness whenever I’m seen
My frowns are so short and my smiles so serene.
The quarrels of lovers with me never fear,
I stay a short month only once in a year:
From sweet expectations your happiness borrow,
Awake with the lark, and behold me tomorrow!