THE poet loves the red red rose,
The lover wears the willow,
The laurel for the soldier grows,
And, sure, I think the sunflower blows
For him who braves the billow ;
But I who am no poet’s peer,
No man-at-arms, no buccaneer,
No lackadaisy lover,
Believe the flower you fancy, dear,
The sweetest to discover !
(Justin H. McCarthy)
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