May thistle, shamrock, rose, for aye intwine
In union and brotherhood sublime;
And every Briton heavenward waft the prayer,
That each the other's weal or woe still share.

Narcissus, sacred to proud Juno once,
Was afterwards the flower of cultured France,
Then the dynastic emblem of Savoy,
Now, the red Indian's magic herb and joy.

The violets of classic Athens too,
Of modest bearing and enchanting hue,
In the accomplishment of time became,
Napoleon's violets of world-wide fame.

Nabrassor's Queen, tired of the level plains
Which her adopted Babylonia claims,
Sighed for her Midian gardens and sweet flowers,
To cheer her in her few retiring hours.

She sighed not long or vainly, for her lord
Called art to rival nature; at his word
Bewitching gardens with rare flowers were
Formed and suspended in mid-air for her.

Let all be grateful to these flower friends,
Who to life's pleasure such rich fragrance lends,
And strive, like them through perfumed actions clear,
Others to gladden, elevate and cheer.