Flowers—Well—if anybody

Flowers—Well—if anybody

Can the ecstasy define—

Half a transport—half a trouble—

With which flowers humble men:

Anybody find the fountain

From which floods so contra flow—

I will give him all the Daisies

Which upon the hillside blow.

Too much pathos in their faces

For a simple breast like mine—

Butterflies from St. Domingo

Cruising round the purple line—

Have a system of aesthetics—

Far superior to mine.