CLOVER BLOSSOMS.
Pretty little clover, with your flowers so fair,Filling with their sweetness all the summer air;Sad it is to see you crushed by careless feet,Pretty little clover, with your blossoms sweet.Grows the pretty clover everywhere we look;All along the roadside—by the running brook.Beautiful and fragrant, are these little flowers.Ah! how we should miss them from this world of ours!Pretty little clover—scorned because you growWithout care or coaxing—making little show.Yet your flowers are sweeter than the rose or pink;Modest little clover—this is what I think.There are many lives in this world of ours,Crushed, and scorned, and slightedLike these pretty flowers.Throwing out their sweetness on the desert air,Only seen by Him, who seeth everywhere.
Pretty little clover, with your flowers so fair,Filling with their sweetness all the summer air;Sad it is to see you crushed by careless feet,Pretty little clover, with your blossoms sweet.Grows the pretty clover everywhere we look;All along the roadside—by the running brook.Beautiful and fragrant, are these little flowers.Ah! how we should miss them from this world of ours!Pretty little clover—scorned because you growWithout care or coaxing—making little show.Yet your flowers are sweeter than the rose or pink;Modest little clover—this is what I think.There are many lives in this world of ours,Crushed, and scorned, and slightedLike these pretty flowers.Throwing out their sweetness on the desert air,Only seen by Him, who seeth everywhere.
Pretty little clover, with your flowers so fair,Filling with their sweetness all the summer air;Sad it is to see you crushed by careless feet,Pretty little clover, with your blossoms sweet.
Pretty little clover, with your flowers so fair,
Filling with their sweetness all the summer air;
Sad it is to see you crushed by careless feet,
Pretty little clover, with your blossoms sweet.
Grows the pretty clover everywhere we look;All along the roadside—by the running brook.Beautiful and fragrant, are these little flowers.Ah! how we should miss them from this world of ours!
Grows the pretty clover everywhere we look;
All along the roadside—by the running brook.
Beautiful and fragrant, are these little flowers.
Ah! how we should miss them from this world of ours!
Pretty little clover—scorned because you growWithout care or coaxing—making little show.Yet your flowers are sweeter than the rose or pink;Modest little clover—this is what I think.
Pretty little clover—scorned because you grow
Without care or coaxing—making little show.
Yet your flowers are sweeter than the rose or pink;
Modest little clover—this is what I think.
There are many lives in this world of ours,Crushed, and scorned, and slightedLike these pretty flowers.Throwing out their sweetness on the desert air,Only seen by Him, who seeth everywhere.
There are many lives in this world of ours,
Crushed, and scorned, and slighted
Like these pretty flowers.
Throwing out their sweetness on the desert air,
Only seen by Him, who seeth everywhere.