The ground in modest thankfulness MS.]

[Variant 12: 

1807.

  But more than all I number yet
  O bounteous Flower! another debt
  Which I to thee wherever met
      Am daily owing; MS.]

[Variant 13: 

1836.

  Child of the Year! that round dost run
  Thy course, bold lover of the sun,
  And chearful when the day’s begun
      As morning Leveret,
  Thou long the Poet’s praise shalt gain;
  Thou wilt be more belov’d by men
  In times to come; thou not in vain 1807.

  Thy long-lost praise thou shalt regain;
  Dear shalt thou be to future men
  As in old time;—­1815.

  Dear thou shalt be 1820.

The text of 1827 returns to that of 1815.]

* * * * *

FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A:  His Muse.—­W.  W. 1815.

The extract is from ‘The Shepherds Hunting’, eclogue fourth, ll. 368-80.—­Ed.]

[Footnote B:  See, in Chaucer and the elder Poets, the honours formerly paid to this flower.—­W.  W. 1815.]

[Footnote C:  This Poem, and two others to the same Flower, which the Reader will find in the second Volume, were written in the year 1802; which is mentioned, because in some of the ideas, though not in the manner in which those ideas are connected, and likewise even in some of the expressions, they bear a striking resemblance to a Poem (lately published) of Mr. Montgomery, entitled, ‘A Field Flower’.  This being said, Mr. Montgomery will not think any apology due to him; I cannot however help addressing him in the words of the Father of English Poets: 

  ’Though it happe me to rehersin—­
  That ye han in your freshe songis saied,
  Forberith me, and beth not ill apaied,
  Sith that ye se I doe it in the honour
  Of Love, and eke in service of the Flour.’

W. W. 1807.

In the edition of 1836, the following variation of the text of this note occurs:  “There is a resemblance to passages in a Poem.”—­Ed.]

For illustration of the last stanza, see Chaucer’s Prologue to ’The Legend of Good Women’.

’As I seyde erst, whanne comen is the May, That in my bed ther daweth me no day, That I nam uppe and walkyng in the mede, To seen this floure agein the sonne sprede, Whan it up rysith erly by the morwe; That blisful sight softneth al my sorwe, So glad am I, whan that I have presence Of it, to doon it alle reverence, As she that is of alle floures flour.’ ...  To seen this flour so yong, so fresshe of hewe, Constreynde me with so gredy desire, That in myn herte I feele yet the fire, That made me to ryse er yt wer day, And this was now the firste morwe of May, With dredful hert, and glad devocioun For to ben at the resurreccion Of this flour, whan that yt shulde