Appear, and call me to my task again.
“Why Lonicera wilt thou name thy child?”
I ask the Gardener’s wife, in accents mild:
“We have a right,” replied the sturdy dame; -
And Lonicera was the infant’s name.
If next a son shall yield our Gardener joy,
Then Hyacinthus shall be that fair boy;
And if a girl, they will at length agree
That Belladonna that fair maid shall be.
High-sounding words our worthy Gardener gets,