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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.
Over the shoulders and slopes of the dune
I saw the white daisies go down to the sea,
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Over the shoulders and slopes of the dune
I saw the white daisies go down to the sea,
A host in the sunshine, an army in June,
The people God sends us to set our heart free.
Thou unassuming Commonplace
Of Nature.
Thou unassuming Commonplace
Of Nature.
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.
That men by reason will it calle may
The daisie or elles the eye of day
The read more
That men by reason will it calle may
The daisie or elles the eye of day
The emperice, and floure of floures alle.
There is a flower, a little flower
With silver crest and golden eye,
That welcomes every changing read more
There is a flower, a little flower
With silver crest and golden eye,
That welcomes every changing hour,
And weathers every sky.
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.
Daisies infinite
Uplift in praise their little growing hands,
O'er every hill that under heaven expands.
Daisies infinite
Uplift in praise their little growing hands,
O'er every hill that under heaven expands.
That of all the floures in the mede,
Thanne love I most these floures white and rede,
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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.