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A for the Aconite, first of the year,.
B for the Buttercup, able to hold Dewdrop
and rain in its chalice of gold.
C for the Cowslip, sweet joy of the spring;
When cowslips are blooming the nightingales sing.
D for the Daisy, white star of the grass,
Lifting its bright eye to us as we pass.
E for the Eglantine, lovely wild rose,
Sheds fragrance of sweetbrair where - ever it grows.
F for the Foxglove, the sentinel tall,
Guarding the forest from summer to fall.
G for the Gorse of rich golden delight;
Linnaeus went down on his knees at the sight.
H for the Harebell, so fragile, yet strong,
The dear little Blue Bells of Scotland in song.
I for the Iris which grows by the stream,
The Flower of the Rainbow, how golden its gleam !
J for St John's Wort, of medical fame,
Balm of the Warrior's Wound was its name.
K for the Kingcup that loves marshy fields,
And glorious the harvest of gold that it yields!
L for the Ling, the dear flower of the heath,
How tender its colour, how fragrant its breath!
M for the Meadowsweet, pleasant and rare
Is the perfume with which it enchanteth the air!
N for the Nightshade, or Bittersweet, flower,
With its berries and blossoms of poisonous power.
O for the Oxlip, a flower that you'll find
When cowslips and orchids in posies you bind.
P for the Primrose, recalling to sight
Paths in the woodland a- shimmer with light.
Q for the Quaking grass, name that it takes
From the way it unceasingly shivers and shakes.
R for the Rest-harrow, staying the plough,
Food for the gentle-eyed, ruminant cow.
S for the Speedwell, tenderest blue;
From the skies it has taken its exquisite hue.
T for the traveller's Joy that you'll find
Where sweet sheltering hedgerows wander and wind.
U for the Upright Sea-lavender flower;
The sand-swallows claim it for sheltering bower.
V for the Violet, flower of the soul,
Heart's-ease of Paradise, making us whole.
W for windflower, so fair to the sight,
That throws o'er the woodlands her mantle of light.
X Forms a cross in the Passion- flower wild
In Southern America, balmy and mild.
Y for the Yarrow, all wayfarers know,
As it grows by the wayside where ever you go.
Z is the ribbon this posy to bind,
With the thoughts and the fragrance
it brings to your mind.
This song was originally posted at: