O gracious morning eglantine, <br />Making the far old English ways divine! <br />Though from thy stock our mateless rose was bred, <br />Staining the world's skies with its red, <br />Our garden gives no scent so fresh as thine, <br />Sweet, thorny-seeming eglantine.<br /><br />Sydney Wheeler Jephcott<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/chaucer-2/
