We should not mind so small a flower –
Except it quiet bring
Our little garden that we lost
Back to the Lawn again –

So spicy her Carnations nod –
So drunken reel her Bees –
So silver, steal a hundred Flutes
From out a hundred trees –

That whoso sees this little flower
By faith, may clear behold
The Bobolinks around the throne
And Dandelions gold.

Emilie –