AN ADDRESS TO THE DAISY.

Sweet, modest Daisy, floweret of the spring, Just peering ’bove the ground in lowly guise, With lifted stem half shrinking with surprise, To be so bold to tend thy offering, Graceful in form, thou coy and lovely thing, Why screen thy head, o’erstreaked with crimson dyes, From man’s too ardent gaze; soft vernal signs Through yonder brake, with whispering cadence fling Their wafted sweetness on the breezes borne; Or fan thy cheek, or kiss the tremulous dew Hung pearl-like on thy petals seen at morn. Yon burnished-coated insect he doth sue, When found thy lone retreat with wooing horn, Ah! why, thou bonny gem, hide from our view.