Poem by John Dyer

To Aurelia

See, the flowery Spring is blown,
Let us leave the smoky Town:
From the Mall, and from the Ring,
Every one has taken wing;
Cloe, Strephon, Corydon,
To the meadows all are gone
What is left you worth your stay?
Come, Aurelia, come away.

Come, Aurelia, come and see
What a lodge I've dress'd for thee;
But the seat you cannot see,
'Tis so hid with jessamy,
With the vine that o'er the walls,
And in every window, crawls;
Let us there be blithe and gay!
Come, Aurelia, come away.

Come with all thy sweetest wiles,
With thy graces and thy smiles;
Come, and we will merry be,
Who shall be so blest as we?
We will frolic all the day,
Haste, Aurelia, while we may:
Ay! and should not life be gay?
Yes, Aurelia—Come away.

1. To Aaron Hill, Esq.
2. An Epistle to a Famous Painter
3. Bedford Level
4. Written at Ocriculum, in Italy, 1725
5. An Epistle to a Friend in Town

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