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Bright flowers, whose home is everywhere
Bold in maternal nature's care
And all the long year through read more
Bright flowers, whose home is everywhere
Bold in maternal nature's care
And all the long year through the heir
Of joy and sorrow,
Methinks that there abides in thee
Some concord with humanity,
Given to no other flower I see
The forest through.
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!
You may wear your virtues as a crown,
As you walk through life serenely,
And grace your read more
You may wear your virtues as a crown,
As you walk through life serenely,
And grace your simple rustic gown
With a beauty more than queenly.
Though only one for you shall care,
One only speak your praises;
And you never wear in your shining hair,
A richer flower than daisies.
Thou unassuming Commonplace
Of Nature.
Thou unassuming Commonplace
Of Nature.
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.
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.
And daisy-stars, whose firmament is green.
And daisy-stars, whose firmament is green.
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.
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.