There's never a delicate nurseling of the year <br />But our huge London hails it, and delights <br />To wear it on her breast or at her ear, <br />Her days to colour and make sweet her nights. <br />Crocus and daffodil and violet, <br />Pink, primrose, valley-lily, close-carnation, <br />Red rose and white rose, wall-flower, mignonette, <br />The daisies all-these be her recreation, <br />Her gaudies these! And forth from Drury Lane, <br />Trapesing in any of her whirl of weathers, <br />Her flower-girls foot it, honest and hoarse and vain, <br />All boot and little shawl and wilted feathers: <br />Of populous corners right advantage taking, <br />And, where they squat, endlessly posy-making.<br /><br />William Ernest Henley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/london-types-flower-girl/
