Oh! Marigold

Tho' I'm a blighted Trumpet-flower,
A Bulrush bending low,
Forget-me-not my Pippins,
When my Rose shall cease to blow;
Miss Marigold, a Dragon-plant,
With cheeks Carnation red,
Threw Ox-eyes at my Heart's-ease,
And turned my Poppy-head.

Oh! Marigold, Marigold, Marigold,
Fair as the Snowdrop, with eyes like sloes;
She's my Daffodilly and my Lilac and my Lily,
She's my buttercup, my daisy, and my wild, white rose.

No Holly-hock more stately was,
No Sunflower half so gay,
And she was sweet as Honeysuckle,
Clover-tops or May.
She caught me in her Fly-trap,
As the Lupin does the bee,
And made me her Fool's-parsley,
For I loved her like Sweet-pea.

She was my Pink and Picotee,
My Myrtle, Moss and Mint;
My Laurel, Lime and Lemon-tree,
My Liver-wort and Lint.
Tho' cold as Ice-plants was my Peach,
No Nettle stung like she,
For oh! she kept her Cuckoo-plant,
From Mandrakes such as me.

When I offered her my Tulips,
She became a Passion-flower;
No Deadly-nightshade looked more dark,
No Sorrel half so sour.
She said, Hop off you Hellebore,
You Hemlock, Hemp and Rue;
No Toadstool turns Hysopp,
More than Savin, Sage or Yew.

I'm turning pale as Parsnips,
For my sweet Blue-bell I Pine;
But she's fairly cut my Cocks-comb,
For I've lost my Columbine.
A Scarlet-runner flung his tendrils
Round my Sprig of Myrrh,
And now she lies in Lavender,
While I'm a Bursting-burr.

I feel as small as Brussel-sprouts,
And useless as chickweed;
I'm like a faded cauliflower,
Or Pumpkin all in seed.
My Jasmine turned a Upas-tree,
The Ivy left the Oak;
She Cabbaged all my Lad's-love,
And I've got a (He)artichoke.