John Byrom

Rose, what is become of thy delicate hue?
And where is the violet's beautiful blue?
Does aught read more

Rose, what is become of thy delicate hue?
And where is the violet's beautiful blue?
Does aught of its sweetness the blossom beguile?
That meadow, those daisies, why do they not smile?

For glances beget ogles, ogles sighs,
Sighs wishes, wishes words, and words a letter.

For glances beget ogles, ogles sighs,
Sighs wishes, wishes words, and words a letter.

Christians awake, salute the happy morn
Whereon the Saviour of the world was born.

Christians awake, salute the happy morn
Whereon the Saviour of the world was born.

The point is plain as a pike staff.

The point is plain as a pike staff.

But scandal's my aversion--I protest
Against all evil speaking, even in jest.

But scandal's my aversion--I protest
Against all evil speaking, even in jest.