The Choice

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PLAGUE take the dull and dusty town,
  Its paved and sordid mazes,
Now Spring has trimmed her pretty gown
  With buttercups and daisies!


With half my heart I long to lie
  Among the flowered grasses,
And hear the loving leaves that sigh
  As their sweet Mistress passes.


Through picture-shows I make my way
  While flower-crowned maids go maying,
And all the cultured things I say
  That cultured folk are saying.


For I renounce Spring's darling face,
  With may-bloom fresh upon it:
My Mistress lives in Grosvenor-place
  And wears a Bond-street bonnet!

© Edith Nesbit