A Rose Has Thorns as Well as Honey
A rose has thorns as well as honey,
I’ll not have her for love or money;
An iris grows so straight and fine,
That she shall be no friend of mine;
Snowdrops like the snow would chill me;
Nightshade would caress and kill me;
Crocus like a spear would fright me;
Dragon’s—mouth might bark or bite me;
Convolvulus but blooms to die;
A wind—flower suggests a sigh;
Love—lies—bleeding makes me sad;
And poppy—juice would drive me mad: —
But give me holly, bold and jolly,
Honest, prickly, shining holly;
Pluck me holly leaf and berry
For the day when I make merry.
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