Three Flowers

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I made a little song about the rose
 And sang it for the rose to hear,
Nor ever marked until the music's close
 A lily that was listening near.

The red red rose flushed redder with delight,
 And like a queen her head she raised.
The white white lily blanched a paler white,
 For anger that she was not praised.

Turning I left the rose unto her pride,
 The lily to her enviousness,
And soon upon the grassy ground espied
 A daisy all companionless.

Doubtless no flattered flower is this, I deemed;
 And not so graciously it grew
As rose or lily: but methought it seemed
 More thankful for the sun and dew.

Dear love, my sweet small flower that grew'st among
 The grass, from all the flowers apart,-
Forgive me that I gave the rose my song,
 Ere thou, the daisy, hadst my heart!

© William Watson