@media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){}Go Rose, my Chloe's bosom grace!
How happy should I prove,
Might I supply that envied place
With never fading love!
There, Phœnix like, beneath her eye,
Involv'd in fragrance, burn and die!.
Know, hapless Flow'r, that thou shalt find
More fragrant roses there:
I see thy with'ring head reclin'd
With envy and despair!
One common fate we both must prove;
You die with Envy, I with Love.
I, Rosa, deliciæ florum, properare memento
Quà niveo invitat pectore pulchra Chloe!
O, mihi fi liceat tali requiescere nido,
Quàm vellem vestro nuncius ire loco!
Sic, O sic positum, rari Phœnicis ad instar,
Fragranti extinctum morte perire juvat!
At, Flos infelix, caveas! formosius ardet,
Dulcè magis redolet, candidus iste sinus:
Vincendi Nympham spem frustrà pascis inanem,
En folia arescunt, ecce recline caput!
Et Flos et Dominus fato moriuntur eodem,
Te Flamma Invidiæ, Me meus urit Amor.