The FIELD and GARDEN DAISY.
I.
In fields, where Thames her swelling wave
Translucent pours along;
Where many a blooming green retreat
Inspires the poet’s song;
II.
A mead with native beauty crown’d,
Extends its verdant bed;
Where fragrant Field-flow’rs wildly bloom,
In sweet confusion spread.
III.
It chanc’d a sportive youth had there
A GARDEN DAISY rear’d,
Which ’midst the tribe of wilder sort
Full haughtily appear’d.
IV.
“Away! (she cry’d) ye meaner train,
“Whose leaves no culture know;
“Respect the Cultivated Flower,
“That deigns in fields to grow!
V.
“And chiefly thou that boast’st my name,
“Though surely not ally’d;
“Claim kindred with thy native weeds,
“Nor flourish by my side!
VI.
“I know thee not;—thy form I scorn;
“In native splendour bright
“IRIS has dipp’d my painted leaves,
“All beauteous to the sight.
VII.
“Whilst THOU!—but vainly spent the time,
“On such a flow’r bestow’d:
“Disdain’d by all the Garden’s tribes,
“My late belov’d abode.
VIII.
“Know ME your queen, ye low-born race,
“Confess superior sway;
“Nor longer in my presence bloom,
“But tremble, and obey.”
IX.
“To foul reproach (the DAISY said)
“What answer can we yield,
“When cultivated flow’rs insult
“The natives of the field?
X.
“Yet what art THOU? proud gaudy toy,
“Descended but from me,
“Who mourn too late I e’er gave birth
“To such Ingrates as thee!
XI.
“I have my use, and oft’ am seen
“The village maids t’ adorn:
“Go prouder thou, in gardens bloom,
“And be the great-ones scorn.
XII.
“But here, proud flow’r, thy date is short,
“The soil denies thee room;
“And ev’n this spot, where now thou swell’st,
“Shall shortly prove thy tomb.”
XIII.
The Sun gaz’d hot, the foreign field
No moisture would supply;
Soon did the boaster droop her head,
And wither, fade, and die.
XIV.
What need I more?—The village swain,
While on the sod reclin’d,
Feels the plain Moral of the Tale
Deep graven on his mind.