194 
TILE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
THE SUNFLOWER. 
HOOD. 
I will not have the mad Clytie, 
Whose head’s turned by the sun ; 
The tulip is a courtly quean, 
Whom therefore I will shun; 
The cowslip is a country wench, 
The violet is a nun;— 
But I will woo the dainty rose, 
The queen of every one. 
SUNFLOWER. 
SHELLEY. 
Light-enchanted sunflower ! Thou 
Who gazest ever true and tender 
On the sun’s revolving splendour, 
Follow not his faithless glance 
With thy faded countenance ; 
Nor teach my beating heart to fear, 
If leaves can mourn without a tear, 
How eyes must weep. 
CONSTANCY. 
MOORE. 
Oh the heart that once truly loves never forgets, 
But as truly loves on to the close ; 
As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets 
The same look that she turned when he rose, 
