DAisy. 
Thou art not daunted ; 
Nor carest if thou be set at nought; 
And oft alone in nooks remote 
YVe meet thee, like a pleasant thought, 
Y'Vhen such are wanted. 
Be violets, in their secret mews 
The flowers the wanton Zephyrs choose ; 
Proud be the Rose, with rains and dews 
Her head impearling : 
Thou liv’st with less ambitious aim, 
Yet hast not gone without thy fame ; 
Thou art indeed, by many a claim, 
The poet’s darling. 
If to a rock from rains he fly, 
Or some bright day of April sky. 
Imprison’d by hot sunshine lie 
Near the green holly ; 
And wearily at length should fare, 
He need but look about, and there 
Thou art 1—a friend at hand, to scare 
His melancholy. 
A hundred times, by rock or bower, 
Ere thus I have lain couched an hour. 
Have I derived from thy sweet power 
Some apprehension; 
Some steady love, some brief delight, 
K 2 
