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Marigold (I will not praise)

I will not praise the often-flattered rose, Or, virgin-like, with blushing charms half seen, Or when, in dazzling splendour, like a queen, All her magnificence of state she shows; No, nor that nun-like lily which but blows Beneath the valley's cool and shady screen, Nor yet the sun-flower, that, with warrior mien, Still eyes the orb of glory where it glows; But thou, neglected wallflower! to my breast And muse art dearest, wildest, sweetest flower! To whom alone the privilege is given Proudly to root thyself above the rest, As Genius does, and, from thy rocky tower, Lend fragrance to the purest breath of heaven.