For in Spring, when the wild flow'rets blew,
Tho' many rich pastures were near,
Where Cowslips and Daffodils grew;
And tho' such gallant flow'rs were our choice,
It was bliss interrupted by Fear—
The Fear of their Owner's dread voice,
Harshly bawling "You've no business here."
15
While the Green, tho' but Daisies it's boast,
Was free as the Flow'rs to the Bee;