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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

We meet thee, like a pleasant thought,
When such are wanted.

We meet thee, like a pleasant thought,
When such are wanted.

Yun daisyd mantels ys the mountayne dyghte.

Yun daisyd mantels ys the mountayne dyghte.

Thou unassuming Commonplace
Of Nature.

Thou unassuming Commonplace
Of Nature.

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.