Flowers

I will not have the mad Clytie,
Whose head is turn'd by the sun;
The tulip is a courtly quean,
Whom, therefore, I will shun;
The cowslip is a country wench,
The violet is a nun; -
But I will woo the dainty rose,
The queen of every one.

The pea is but a wanton witch,
In too much haste to wed,
And clasps her rings on every hand;
The wolfsbane I should dread;
Nor will I dreary rosemarye,
That always mourns the dead; -
But I will woo the dainty rose,
With her cheeks of tender red.

The lily is all in white, like a saint,
And so is no mate for me -
And the daisy's cheek is tipp'd with a blush,
She is of such low degree;
Jasmine is sweet, and has many loves,
And the broom 's betroth'd to the bee; -
But I will plight with the dainty rose,
For fairest of all is she.

Thomas Hood . 1798-1844

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Poetry of Hood

Thomas Hood
born 1798, died 1844

Poems

The Wee Man
The Exile
The Lay of the Labourer
The Song of the Shirt
Gold
The Bridge of Sighs
The Death-Bed
I Remember, I Remember!
I Love Thee!
To An Absentee
To -
The Forsaken
Ruth
To My Daughter
To A Child
A Parental Ode To My Son, Aged Three Years And Five Months
To A False Friend
Flowers
The Lee-Shore

See all poems index for
Thomas Hood

Flowers - Thomas Hood - poetry, poems

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