To Ellen

Mrs Flaxman

Feby 14th 1815

Welcome, thrice welcome is this day,
More welcome than the first of May,
For love-sick Jane can write to Willy.
And waggish Ellen mounts her filly;
While playful Cupid careless flings
His knots, his garters, and his rings
Quite heedless as he throws his roses
Of piercing hearts, or scratching noses,
And from the lap of nature showers
Hearts-ease, and rue, and such-like flowers
One little flower of virtue rare,
To still the gods’ peculiar care,
No hotbed can produce this flower,
Yet love and friendship have the power,
Wherever love and truth is found,
This little flower will there abound;
Its eyes has all the fire of youth,
Its garb is purity and truth,


You love the flower right well, I wot
I pray that you forget-me-not,