With little here to do or see <br />Of things that in the great world be, <br />Daisy! again I talk to thee, <br />For thou art worthy, <br />Thou unassuming Common-place <br />Of Nature, with that homely face, <br />And yet with something of a grace, <br />Which Love makes for thee! <br /> <br />Oft on the dappled turf at ease <br />I sit, and play with similies, <br />Loose types of things through all degrees, <br />Thoughts of thy raising: <br />And many a fond and idle name <br />I give to thee, for praise or blame, <br />As is the humour of the game, <br />While I am gazing. <br /> <br />A nun demure of lowly port; <br />Or sprightly maiden, of Love's court, <br />In thy simplicity the sport <br />Of all temptations; <br />A queen in crown of rubies drest; <br />A starveling in a scanty vest; <br />Are all, as seems to suit thee best, <br />Thy appellations. <br /> <br />A little cyclops, with one eye <br />Staring to threaten and defy, <br />That thought comes next--and instantly <br />The freak is over, <br />The shape will vanish--and behold <br />A silver shield with boss of gold, <br />That spreads itself, some faery bold <br />In fight to cover! <br /> <br />I see thee glittering from afar-- <br />And then thou art a pretty star; <br />Not quite so fair as many are <br />In heaven above thee! <br />Yet like a star, with glittering crest, <br />Self-poised in air thou seem'st to rest;-- <br />May peace come never to his nest, <br />Who shall reprove thee! <br /> <br />Bright 'Flower'! for by that name at last, <br />When all my reveries are past, <br />I call thee, and to that cleave fast, <br />Sweet silent creature! <br />That breath'st with me in sun and air, <br />Do thou, as thou art wont, repair <br />My heart with gladness, and a share <br />Of thy meek nature!<br /><br />William Wordsworth<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-the-same-flower-second-poem/
