ELIZABETH, my cousin, is the sweetest little girl, From her eyes like dark blue pansies, to her tiniest golden curl; I do not use her great long name, but simply call her Bess, And yesterday I planted her in mustard and in cress. My garden is so narrow that there's very little room, But I'd rather have her name than get a hollyhock to bloom; And before she comes to visit us with Charley and with Jess, She'll pop up green and bonny out of mustard and of cress. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CHILD'S EVENING PRAYER by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE RECOLLECTIONS OF LOVE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE ONCE BEFORE by MARY ELIZABETH MAPES DODGE MAY MORNING by CELIA LEIGHTON THAXTER TO A SNOWFLAKE by FRANCIS THOMPSON WALT WHITMAN'S CAUTION by WALT WHITMAN THE HERO OF VIMY; AN INCIDENT OF THE GREAT WAR by BRENT DOW ALLINSON |