The 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.