Thrive, gentle plant! and weave a bower
For Mary and for me,
And deck with many a splendid flower,
Thy foliage large and free.
Thou camest from Eartham, and wilt shade
(If truly I divine)
Some future day the illustrious head
Of him who made thee mine.
Should Daphne show a jealous frown,
And envy seize the bay,
Affirming none so fit to crown
Such honour’d brows as they,
Thy cause with zeal we shall defend,
And with convincing power;
For why should not the virgin’s friend
Be crown’d with virgin’s bower?