Mourn, little harebells, o'er the lea;
Ye stately foxgloves fair to see!
Ye woodbines, hanging bonnilie
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Mourn, little harebells, o'er the lea;
Ye stately foxgloves fair to see!
Ye woodbines, hanging bonnilie
In scented bowers!
Ye roses on your thorny tree
The first o' flow'rs.

The happy bells shall ring Marguerite;
The summer birds shall sing Marguerite;
You smile but you shall read more

The happy bells shall ring Marguerite;
The summer birds shall sing Marguerite;
You smile but you shall wear
Orange blossoms in your hair, Marguerite.

By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower.

By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower.

Now blooms the lily by the bank,
The primrose down the brae;
The hawthorn's budding in the read more

Now blooms the lily by the bank,
The primrose down the brae;
The hawthorn's budding in the glen,
The milkwhite is the slae.

Gather the flowers, but spare the buds.

Gather the flowers, but spare the buds.

The earth laughs in flowers.

The earth laughs in flowers.

I hate flowers -- I paint them because they're cheaper than models and they don't move.

I hate flowers -- I paint them because they're cheaper than models and they don't move.

As for marigolds, poppies, hollyhocks, and valorous sunflowers,
we shall never have a garden without them, both for their read more

As for marigolds, poppies, hollyhocks, and valorous sunflowers,
we shall never have a garden without them, both for their own
sake, and for the sake of old-fashioned folks, who used to love
them.

Not a flower
But shows some touch, in freckle, streak or stain,
Of his unrivall'd pencil.

Not a flower
But shows some touch, in freckle, streak or stain,
Of his unrivall'd pencil.