Her snowy cloud of blossom spread:
And Chaucer’s Daisy, small and sweet—
“Si douce est la Margarete.”
The little Lilies of the Vale,
White ladies delicate and pale.
Great Peonies in crimson pride,
And budding ones in green that hide:
Fair Columbines that drew the car
Of Venus from her distant star:
And Love’s own flower, the blushing Rose,