Full white the Bourbon lily blows,
And fairer haughty England's rose.
Nor shall unsung the symbol smile,
Green Ireland, of thy lovely isle.
In Scotland grows a warlike flower,
Too rough to bloom in lady's bower;
His crest, when high the soldier bears,
And spurs his courser on the spears.
O there it blossoms--there it blows
The thistle's grown aboon the rose.
--Allan Cunningham
No comments:
Post a Comment