You may wear your virtues as a crown,
As you walk through life serenely,
And grace your read more

You may wear your virtues as a crown,
As you walk through life serenely,
And grace your simple rustic gown
With a beauty more than queenly.
Though only one for you shall care,
One only speak your praises;
And you never wear in your shining hair,
A richer flower than daisies.

The Rose has but a Summer reign,
The daisy never dies.

The Rose has but a Summer reign,
The daisy never dies.

And a breastplate made of daisies,
Closely fitting, leaf on leaf,
Periwinkles interlaced
Drawn read more

And a breastplate made of daisies,
Closely fitting, leaf on leaf,
Periwinkles interlaced
Drawn for belt about the waist;
While the brown bees, humming praises,
Shot their arrows round the chief.

Over the shoulders and slopes of the dune
I saw the white daisies go down to the sea,
read more

Over the shoulders and slopes of the dune
I saw the white daisies go down to the sea,
A host in the sunshine, an army in June,
The people God sends us to set our heart free.

That men by reason will it calle may
The daisie or elles the eye of day
The read more

That men by reason will it calle may
The daisie or elles the eye of day
The emperice, and floure of floures alle.

Even thou who mournst the daisy's fate,
That fate is thine--no distant date;
Stern Ruin's ploughshare drives, read more

Even thou who mournst the daisy's fate,
That fate is thine--no distant date;
Stern Ruin's ploughshare drives, elate,
Full on thy bloom,
Till crushed beneath the furrow's weight
Shall be thy doom!

Stoop where thou wilt, thy careless hand
Some random bud will meet;
Thou canst not tread, but read more

Stoop where thou wilt, thy careless hand
Some random bud will meet;
Thou canst not tread, but thou wilt find
The daisy at thy feet.

And daisy-stars, whose firmament is green.

And daisy-stars, whose firmament is green.

That of all the floures in the mede,
Thanne love I most these floures white and rede,
read more

That of all the floures in the mede,
Thanne love I most these floures white and rede,
Suche as men callen daysyes in her toune.