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.

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.

And daisy-stars, whose firmament is green.

And daisy-stars, whose firmament is green.

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!

The poet's darling.

The poet's darling.

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.

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 Rose has but a Summer reign,
The daisy never dies.

The Rose has but a Summer reign,
The daisy never dies.