Quit Grieving.
Reading edition
Don't you go to grievin' At the cry of grief; If you'll try to whistle You will find relief! Mockin'-bird up yonder. Robin down below, An' the world a-singin' All the song's they know!
A rose is only a rose after all, however sweet and beautiful it may be. And a weed is no worse than a weed, however noxious or deadly its exhalations. Neither can reach into the realm of the other or invade the world of its supremacy. Stick to the world in which you are born, and throw no bouquets at the impossible or the unattainable.