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Rudyard Kipling - The FlowersRudyard Kipling - The Flowers
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    To our private taste, there is always something a little exotic,     almost artificial, in songs which, under an English aspect and dress,     are yet so manifestly the product of other skies.  They affect us     like translations; the very fauna and flora are alien, remote;     the dog`s-tooth violet is but an ill substitute for the rathe primrose,     nor can we ever believe that the wood-robin sings as sweetly in April     as the English thrush. — THE ATHEN]AEUM.           Buy my English posies!           Kent and Surrey may —           Violets of the Undercliff           Wet with Channel spray;           Cowslips from a Devon combe —           Midland furze afire —           Buy my English posies           And I`ll sell your heart`s desire!     Buy my English posies!     You that scorn the May,     Won`t you greet a friend from home     Half the world away?     Green against the draggled drift,     Faint and frail and first —     Buy my Northern blood-root     And I`ll know where you were nursed: Robin down the logging-road whistles, "Come to me!" Spring has found the maple-grove, the sap is running free; All the winds of Canada call the ploughing-rain. Take the flower and turn the hour, and kiss your love again!     Buy my English posies!     Here`s to match your need —     Buy a tuft of royal heath,     Buy a bunch of weed     White as sand of Muysenberg     Spun before the gale —     Buy my heath and lilies     And I`ll tell you whence you hail! Under hot Constantia broad the vineyards lie — Throned and thorned the aching berg props the speckless sky — Slow below the Wynberg firs trails the tilted wain — Take the flower and turn the hour, and kiss your love again!     Buy my English posies!     You that will not turn —     Buy my hot-wood clematis,     Buy a frond o` fern     Gathered where the Erskine leaps     Down the road to Lorne —     Buy my Christmas creeper     And I`ll say where you were born! West away from Melbourne dust holidays begin — They that mock at Paradise woo at Cora Lynn — Through the great South Otway gums sings the great South Main — Take the flower and turn the hour, and kiss your love again!     Buy my English posies!     Here`s your choice unsold!     Buy a blood-red myrtle-bloom,     Buy the kowhai`s gold     Flung for gift on Taupo`s face,     Sign that spring is come —     Buy my clinging myrtle     And I`ll give you back your home! Broom behind the windy town; pollen o` the pine — Bell-bird in the leafy deep where the ~ratas~ twine — Fern above the saddle-bow, flax upon the plain — Take the flower and turn the hour, and kiss your love again!     Buy my English posies!     Ye that have your own     Buy them for a brother`s sake     Overseas, alone.     Weed ye trample underfoot     Floods his heart abrim —     Bird ye never heeded,     Oh, she calls his dead to him! Far and far our homes are set round the Seven Seas; Woe for us if we forget, we that hold by these! Unto each his mother-beach, bloom and bird and land — Masters of the Seven Seas, oh, love and understand.
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