Blessings as rich and fragrant crown your heads
As the mild heav'n on roses sheds,
When at their cheeks—like pearls—they wear
The clouds that court them in a tear!
And may they be fed from above
By Him which first ordain'd your love!
Fresh as the hours may all your pleasures be,
And healthful as eternity!
Sweet as the flowers' first breath, and close
As th' unseen spreadings of the rose,
When he unfolds his curtain'd head,
And makes his bosom the sun's bed!
Soft as yourselves run your whole lives, and clear
As your own glass, or what shines there!
Smooth as heav'n's face, and bright as he
When without mask or tiffany!
In all your time not one jar meet
But peace as silent as his feet!
Like the day's warmth may all your comforts be,
Untoil'd for, and serene as he,
Yet free and full as is that sheaf
Of sunbeams gilding ev'ry leaf,
When now the tyrant-heat expires
And his cool'd locks breathe milder fires!
And as those parcell'd glories he doth shed
Are the fair issues of his head,
Which, ne'er so distant, are soon known
By th' heat and lustre for his own;
So may each branch of yours we see
Your copies and our wonders be!
And when no more on earth you must remain,
Invited hence to heav'n again,
Then may your virtuous, virgin-flames
Shine in those heirs of your fair names,
And teach the world that mystery,
Yourselves in your posterity!
So you to both worlds shall rich presents bring,
And, gather'd up to heav'n, leave here a spring.