PANSIES,
lilies,
kingcups,
daisies,
Let
them
live
upon
their
praises;
Long
as
there's
a
sun
that
sets,
Primroses
will
have
their
glory;
Long
as
there
are
violets,
They
will
have
a
place
in
story:
There's
a
flower
that
shall
be
mine,
'Tis
the
little
Celandine.
Eyes
of
some
men
travel
far
For
the
finding
of
a
star;
Up
and
down
the
heavens
they
go,
Men
that
keep
a
mighty
rout!
I'm
as
great
as
they,
I
trow,
Since
the
day
I
found
thee
out,
Little
Flower!--I'll
make
a
stir,
Like
a
sage
astronomer.
Modest,
yet
withal
an
Elf
Bold,
and
lavish
of
thyself;
Since
we
needs
must
first
have
met
I
have
seen
thee,
high
and
low,
Thirty
years
or
more,
and
yet
'Twas
a
face
I
did
not
know;
Thou
hast
now,
go
where
I
may,
Fifty
greetings
in
a
day.
Ere
a
leaf
is
on
a
bush,
In
the
time
before
the
thrush
Has
a
thought
about
her
nest,
Thou
wilt
come
with
half
a
call,
Spreading
out
thy
glossy
breast
Like
a
careless
Prodigal;
Telling
tales
about
the
sun,
When
we've
little
warmth,
or
none.
Poets,
vain
men
in
their
mood!
Travel
with
the
multitude:
Never
heed
them;
I
aver
That
they
all
are
wanton
wooers;
But
the
thrifty
cottager,
Who
stirs
little
out
of
doors,
Joys
to
spy
thee
near
her
home;
Spring
is
coming,
Thou
art
come!
Comfort
have
thou
of
thy
merit,
Kindly,
unassuming
Spirit!
Careless
of
thy
neighbourhood,
Thou
dost
show
thy
pleasant
face
On
the
moor,
and
in
the
wood,
In
the
lane;--there's
not
a
place,
Howsoever
mean
it
be,
But
'tis
good
enough
for
thee.
Ill
befall
the
yellow
flowers,
Children
of
the
flaring
hours!
Buttercups,
that
will
be
seen,
Whether
we
will
see
or
no;
Others,
too,
of
lofty
mien;
They
have
done
as
worldlings
do,
Taken
praise
that
should
be
thine,
Little,
humble
Celandine!
Prophet
of
delight
and
mirth,
Ill-requited
upon
earth;
Herald
of
a
mighty
band,
Of
a
joyous
train
ensuing,
Serving
at
my
heart's
command,
Tasks
that
are
no
tasks
renewing,
I
will
sing,
as
doth
behove,
Hymns
in
praise
of
what
I
love!
