[MORAL SONG] III. The ROSE. I. HOW fair is the Rose? what a beautiful Flow'r? The Glory of April and May: But the Leaves are beginning to fade in an Hour, And they wither and die in a Day. II. Yet the Rose has one powerful Virtue to boast, Above all the Flowers of the Field: When its Leaves are all dead, and fine Colours are lost, Still how sweet a Perfume it will yield? III. So frail is the Youth and the Beauty of Men, Tho' they bloom and look gay like the Rose: But all our fond Care to preserve them is vain; Time kills them as fast as he goes. IV. Then I'll not be proud of my Youth or my Beauty, Since both of them wither and fade: But gain a good Name by well-doing my Duty; This will scent like a Rose when I'm dead.