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.

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

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

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.

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.

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,
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.

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.

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.