I.
Westphalian climes produce my first,
In genuine taste and flavour;
My next is dealt to all mankind,
Without respect or favour;
The fops of France proclaim my third
To each surrounding nation:
My whole declares a lady's name,
Whose virtues grace her station.
II.
My first with dread the pilgrim views,
If through Arabian wilds he wander;
My next the timid virgin woos,
Without the fear of venomed slander;
My whole is used in every clime,
An emblem of the flight of time.
III.
The point from which the zephyr blows,
And Phoebus sinks to soft repose;
What oft invades the path of duty,
The rose's bane, yet still a beauty,
Proclaim the groves we view with pride,
Embellishing the banks of Clyde.
IV.
My first was oft in triumphs seen,
Though now a rustic rude machine;
My second clouds the sun of life
Betwixt the husband and the wife;
My whole in various tints displayed,
For slumber serves the Persian maid.