Whilst others give thee wondrous toys,
Or jewels rich and rare,
I bring but flowersmore meet are they
For one so young and fair.
Tis not because that snowy brow
Might with the lily vie,
Or violet match the starry glance
Of that dark, lustrous eye;
Nor yet because a brighter blush
Een rose leaf never wore,
But tis that in their leaves lies hid
A rare and mystic lore.
And with its aid I now shall form
A wreath of flowrets wild
Graceful, and full of meaning sweet,
To deck thy brow, fair child!
The primrose, first, the emblem fit
Of budding, early youth;
The daisy in whose leaves we read
Pure innocence and truth.
The rosebud, sign of youthful charms,
We well may give to thee,
And with it join the sweet frail leaves
Of the shrinking sensitive tree.
And, tribute to thy modesty,
The violet emblem meet,
Itself concealing, yet on all
Shedding its perfume sweet.
And for thy kind and gentle heart
We bring the jessamine,
To twine with ivy, ever green
True friendships sacred sign.
Thy wreath is formedof blossoms bright
Ive twined each link, and, yet,
Another flower I still must add,
The fragrant mignonnette,
Which says However great the charms
That to thy lot may fall
Thy qualities of heart and mind
By far surpass them all.
Aye, be it thus, and ever may
This lovely wreath, as now
Emblem of every precious gift
Be fit to deck thy brow.
But, last and dearest, mid the buds
Of that bright varied lot
Must ever be, my gentle child,
The sweet forget-me-not!