Part 2 — FLOS FLORAE.
John Addington Symonds translation
No. 30.
Take thou this rose, O Rose! the loves in the rose repose: I with love of the rose am caught at the winter's close: Take thou this flower, my flower, and cherish it in thy bower: Thou in thy beauty's power shalt lovelier blow each hour: Gaze at the rose, and smile, my rose, in mine eyes the while: To thee the roses belong, thy voice is the nightingale's song: Give thou the rose a kiss, it blushes like thy mouth's bliss: Flowers in a picture seem not flowers, but flowers in a dream: Who paints the rose's bloom, paints not the rose's perfume.
In complete contrast to this conceited and euphuistic style of composition stands a slight snatch of rustic melody, consisting of little but reiteration and refrain.