Verse > William Wordsworth > Complete Poetical Works


          THAT is work of waste and ruin--
          Do as Charles and I are doing!
          Strawberry-blossoms, one and all,
          We must spare them--here are many:
          Look at it--the flower is small,
          Small and low, though fair as any:
          Do not touch it! summers two
          I am older, Anne, than you.

          Pull the primrose, sister Anne!
          Pull as many as you can.                                    10
          --Here are daisies, take your fill;
          Pansies, and the cuckoo-flower:
          Of the lofty daffodil
          Make your bed, or make your bower;
          Fill your lap, and fill your bosom;
          Only spare the strawberry-blossom!

          Primroses, the Spring may love them--
          Summer knows but little of them:
          Violets, a barren kind,
          Withered on the ground must lie;                            20
          Daisies leave no fruit behind
          When the pretty flowerets die;
          Pluck them, and another year
          As many will be blowing here.

          God has given a kindlier power
          To the favoured strawberry-flower.
          Hither soon as spring is fled
          You and Charles and I will walk;
          Lurking berries, ripe and red,
          Then will hang on every stalk,                              30
          Each within its leafy bower;
          And for that promise spare the flower!



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