Madison Cawein - Weeds by the Wall - Foreword lyrics

In the first rare spring of song, In my heart's young hours, In my youth 't was thus I sang, Choosing 'mid the flowers:— "Fair the Dandelion is, But for me too lowly; And the winsome Violet Is, forsooth, too holy. 'But the Touchmenot?' Go to! What! a face that's speckled Like a common milking-maid's, Whom the sun hath freckled. Then the Wild-Rose is a flirt; And the trillium Lily, In her spotless gown, 's a prude, Sanctified and silly. By her cap the Columbine, To my mind, 's too merry; Gossips, I would sooner wed Some plebeian Berry. And the shy Anemone— Well, her face shows sorrow; Pale, goodsooth! alive to-day, Dead and gone to-morrow. Then that bold-eyed, buxom wench, Big and blond and lazy,— She's been chosen overmuch!— Sirs, I mean the Daisy. Pleasant persons are they all, And their virtues many; Faith I know but good of each, And naught ill of any. But I choose a May-apple; She shall be my Lady; Blooming, hidden and refined, Sweet in places shady." In my youth 'twas thus I sang, In my heart's young hours, In the first rare spring of song, Choosing 'mid the flowers. So I hesitated when Time alone was reckoned By the hours that Fancy smiled, Love and Beauty beckoned. Hard it was for me to choose From the flowers that flattered; And the blossom that I chose Soon lay dead and scattered. Hard I found it then, ah, me! Hard I found the choosing; Harder, harder since I've found, Ah, too hard the losing. Haply had I chosen then From the weeds that tangle Wayside, woodland and the wall Of my garden's angle, I had chosen better, yea, For these later hours— Longer last the weeds, and oft Sweeter are than flowers.