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Charles Lamb - To Margaret W------
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Margaret, in happy hour, 
Christen`d from that humble flower 
      Which we a daisy call! 
May thy pretty name-sake be 
In all things a type of thee, 
      And image thee in all. 

Like it you show a modest face, 
An unpretending native grace; — 
      The tulip, and the pink, 
The china and the damask rose, 
And every flaunting flower that blows, 
      In the comparing shrink. 

Of lowly fields you think no scorn; 
Yet gayest gardens would adorn, 
      And grace, wherever set. 
Home-seated in your lonely bower, 
Or wedded — a transplanted flower — 
      I bless you, Margaret!
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