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.