A rose has thorns as well as honey, 
I’ll not have her for love or money; 
An iris grows so straight and fine, 
That she shall be no friend of mine; 
Snowdrops like the snow would chill me; 
Nightshade would caress and kill me; 
Crocus like a spear would fright me; 
Dragon’s-mouth might bark or bite me; 
Convolvulus but blooms to die; 
A wind-flower suggests a sigh; 
Love-lies-bleeding makes me sad; 
And poppy-juice would drive me mad:— 
But give me holly, bold and jolly, 
Honest, prickly, shining holly; 
Pluck me holly leaf and berry 
For the day when I make merry.

Christina Rossetti