The Song of the Chrysanthemum

At last I have come to my throne.
No more, despised and unknown,
   In gardens forlorn
   My blossoms are born;
No more in some corner obscure
Do I drearily, sadly endure
   The withering blight
   Of neglect and of slight;
Oh, long have I waited and late,
For this fair and slow-coming fate,
   Which the years have foretold
   As they sighingly rolled.
Oh, long have I waited and lone;
But at last on my blossomy throne,
   The world doth declare
   I am fairest of fair,
And queen of the autumn I reign,
With a sway that none may disdain,
   I, once who did stand,
   Despised in the land.
                       Nora Perry, 19th century

from  "A Victorian Posy, Penhaligon's scented treasury of verse and prose". 
Ex libris CNB 0145