A GARDEN

Andrew Marvell 1621-78

See how the flowers, as at parade,

Under their colours stand display’d:

Each regiment in order grows,

That of the tulip, pink, and rose.

But when the vigilant patrol

Of stars walks round about the pole,

Their leaves, that to the stalks are curl’d,

Seem to their staves the ensigns furl’d.

Then in some flower’s beloved hut

Each bee, as sentinel, is shut,

And sleeps so too; but if once stirr’d,

She runs you through, nor asks the word.

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