Stars are the daisies that begem
The blue fields of the sky,
Beheld by all, and everywhere,
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Stars are the daisies that begem
The blue fields of the sky,
Beheld by all, and everywhere,
Bright prototypes on high.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

Thou unassuming Commonplace
Of Nature.

Thou unassuming Commonplace
Of Nature.

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!