THREE FLOWERS

By William Watson

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!