BUTTERCUPS AND DAISIES.
Buttercups and daisies,Oh, the pretty flowers—Coming ere the spring time,To tell of sunny hours.While the trees are leafless,While the fields are bare,Buttercups and daisiesSpring up here and there.Ere the snowdrop peepeth,Ere the crocus bold,Ere the early primroseOpes its paly gold,Somewhere on the sunny bankButtercups are bright;Somewhere ’mong the frozen grassPeeps the daisy white.Little hardy flowers,Like to children poor,Playing in their sturdy healthBy their mother’s door,Purple with the north wind,Yet alert and bold;Fearing not, and caring not,Though they be a-cold!What to them is Winter!What are stormy showers!Buttercups and daisiesAre these human flowers!He who gave them hardshipsAnd a life of care,Gave them likewise hardy strengthAnd patient hearts to bear.
Buttercups and daisies,Oh, the pretty flowers—Coming ere the spring time,To tell of sunny hours.While the trees are leafless,While the fields are bare,Buttercups and daisiesSpring up here and there.Ere the snowdrop peepeth,Ere the crocus bold,Ere the early primroseOpes its paly gold,Somewhere on the sunny bankButtercups are bright;Somewhere ’mong the frozen grassPeeps the daisy white.Little hardy flowers,Like to children poor,Playing in their sturdy healthBy their mother’s door,Purple with the north wind,Yet alert and bold;Fearing not, and caring not,Though they be a-cold!What to them is Winter!What are stormy showers!Buttercups and daisiesAre these human flowers!He who gave them hardshipsAnd a life of care,Gave them likewise hardy strengthAnd patient hearts to bear.
Buttercups and daisies,Oh, the pretty flowers—Coming ere the spring time,To tell of sunny hours.While the trees are leafless,While the fields are bare,Buttercups and daisiesSpring up here and there.
Buttercups and daisies,
Oh, the pretty flowers—
Coming ere the spring time,
To tell of sunny hours.
While the trees are leafless,
While the fields are bare,
Buttercups and daisies
Spring up here and there.
Ere the snowdrop peepeth,Ere the crocus bold,Ere the early primroseOpes its paly gold,Somewhere on the sunny bankButtercups are bright;Somewhere ’mong the frozen grassPeeps the daisy white.
Ere the snowdrop peepeth,
Ere the crocus bold,
Ere the early primrose
Opes its paly gold,
Somewhere on the sunny bank
Buttercups are bright;
Somewhere ’mong the frozen grass
Peeps the daisy white.
Little hardy flowers,Like to children poor,Playing in their sturdy healthBy their mother’s door,Purple with the north wind,Yet alert and bold;Fearing not, and caring not,Though they be a-cold!
Little hardy flowers,
Like to children poor,
Playing in their sturdy health
By their mother’s door,
Purple with the north wind,
Yet alert and bold;
Fearing not, and caring not,
Though they be a-cold!
What to them is Winter!What are stormy showers!Buttercups and daisiesAre these human flowers!He who gave them hardshipsAnd a life of care,Gave them likewise hardy strengthAnd patient hearts to bear.
What to them is Winter!
What are stormy showers!
Buttercups and daisies
Are these human flowers!
He who gave them hardships
And a life of care,
Gave them likewise hardy strength
And patient hearts to bear.
—Mary Howitt.