I Will not have the mad Clytie,
  Whose head is turned by the sun;
The tulip is a courtly quean,
  Whom, therefore, I will shun:
The cowslip is a country wench,
  The violet is a nun;—
But I will woo the dainty rose,
  The queen of every one.

The pea is but a wanton witch,
  In too much haste to wed,
And clasps...