Here flowers in sweet confusion strown,
O'er the verdant mead are blown;
Narcissus, near the rivers fair,
Smiles at itself reflected there;
Sad emblem of that lover's pride,
Who for himself too fondly died.
The crowfoot here with golden hue,
The cowslips sweet, the violets blue,
The blushing pinks, and lilies pale,
Like virgins fair, like virgins frail;
Soft daffodils of early bloom,
And daisies earful of the gloom.