Bright flower! 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 thorough! Is
it that Man is soon deprest? A
thoughtless Thing! Who, once unblest, Does
little on his memory rest, Or on his reason, And
thou wouldst teach him how to find A
shelter under every wind, A
hope for times that are unkind And every season? Thou
wander’st the wide world about, Unchecked
by pride or scrupulous doubt, With
friends to greet thee, or without, Yet pleased and willing; Meek,
yielding to the occasion’s call, And
all things suffering from all, Thy
function apostolical In peace fulfilling. |
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