There is a flower that Bees prefer
And Butterfliesdesire
To gain the Purple Democrat
The Humming Birdaspire
And Whatsoever Insect pass
A Honey bear away
Proportioned to his several dearth
And hercapacity
Her face be rounder than the Moon
And ruddier than the Gown
Or Orchis in the Pasture
Or Rhododendronworn
She doth not wait for June
Before the World be Green
Her sturdy little Countenance
Against the Windbe seen
Contending with the Grass
Near Kinsman to Herself
For Privilege of Sod and Sun
Sweet Litigants for Life
And when the Hills be full
And newer fashions blow
Doth not retract a single spice
For pang of jealousy
Her Publicbe the Noon
Her Providencethe Sun
Her Progressby the Beeproclaimed
In sovereignSwerveless Tune
The Bravestof the Host
Surrenderingthe last
Nor even of Defeataware
What cancelled by the Frost