The Apron of Flowers
To gather flowers, Sappha went,And homeward she did bringWithin her lawny continent,The treasure of the Spring.
She smiling blush'd, and blushing smiled,And sweetly blushing thus,She look'd as she'd been got with childBy young Favonius.
Her apron gave, as she did pass,An odour more divine,More pleasing too, than ever wasThe lap of Proserpine.
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