Pansies, Lilies, Kingcups, Daisies, Let them live upon their praises; Long as there's a sun that sets Primroses will have their glory;
Long as there are Violets, They will have a place in story: There's a flower that shall be mine, ‘ Tis the little Celandine.
Eyes of some men travel far For the finding of a star; Up and down the heavens they go, Men that keep a mighty rout!
I'm as great as they, I trow, Since the day I found thee out, Little flower!— I'll make a stir Like a great Astronomer.
Modest, yet withal an Elf Bold, and lavish of thyself, Since we needs must first have met I have seen thee, high and low,
Thirty years or more, and yet ‘ Twas a face I did not know; Thou hast now, go where I may, Fifty greetings in a day.
Ere a leaf is on a bush, In the time before the Thrush Has a thought about it's nest, Thou wilt come with half a call,
Spreading out thy glossy breast Like a careless Prodigal; Telling tales about the sun, When we've little warmth, or none.
Poets, vain men in their mood! Travel with the multitude; Never heed them; I aver That they all are wanton Wooers;
But the thrifty Cottager, Who stirs little out of doors, Joys to spy thee near her home, Spring is coming, Thou art come!
Comfort have thou of thy merit, Kindly, unassuming Spirit! Careless of thy neighbourhood, Thou dost shew thy pleasant face
On the moor, and in the wood. In the lane — there's not a place, Howsoever mean it be, But‘ tis good enough for thee.
Ill befal the yellow Flowers, Children of the flaring hours! Buttercups, that will be seen, Whether we will see or no;
Others, too, of lofty mien; They have done as worldlings do, Taken praise that should be thine, Little, humble Celandine!
Prophet of delight and mirth, Scorn'd and slighted upon earth! Herald of a mighty band, Of a joyous train ensuing,
Singing at my heart's command, In the lanes my thoughts pursuing, I will sing, as doth behove, Hymns in praise of what I love!
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