Not worlds on worlds, in phalanx deep,
Need we to prove a God is here;
The daisy, read more

Not worlds on worlds, in phalanx deep,
Need we to prove a God is here;
The daisy, fresh from nature's sleep,
Tells of His hand in lines as clear.

The daisy's for simplicity and unaffected air.

The daisy's for simplicity and unaffected air.

Spake full well, in language quaint and olden,
One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine,
When he read more

Spake full well, in language quaint and olden,
One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine,
When he call'd the flowers, so blue and golden,
Stars that on earth's firmament do shine.

Stars are the daisies that begem
The blue fields of the sky,
Beheld by all, and everywhere,
read more

Stars are the daisies that begem
The blue fields of the sky,
Beheld by all, and everywhere,
Bright prototypes on high.

Yun daisyd mantels ys the mountayne dyghte.

Yun daisyd mantels ys the mountayne dyghte.

That of all the floures in the mede,
Thanne love I most these floures white and rede,
read more

That of all the floures in the mede,
Thanne love I most these floures white and rede,
Suche as men callen daysyes in her toune.

All summer she scattered the daisy leaves;
They only mocked her as they fell.
She said: "The read more

All summer she scattered the daisy leaves;
They only mocked her as they fell.
She said: "The daisy but deceives;
'He loves me not,' 'he loves me will,'
One story no two daisies tell."
Ah foolish heart, which waits and grieves
Under the daisy's mocking spell.

And a breastplate made of daisies,
Closely fitting, leaf on leaf,
Periwinkles interlaced
Drawn read more

And a breastplate made of daisies,
Closely fitting, leaf on leaf,
Periwinkles interlaced
Drawn for belt about the waist;
While the brown bees, humming praises,
Shot their arrows round the chief.

Even thou who mournst the daisy's fate,
That fate is thine--no distant date;
Stern Ruin's ploughshare drives, read more

Even thou who mournst the daisy's fate,
That fate is thine--no distant date;
Stern Ruin's ploughshare drives, elate,
Full on thy bloom,
Till crushed beneath the furrow's weight
Shall be thy doom!