Shame on the pride, a single flower that spurns
In all the round year’s blooming calendar;
Alike for all, God’s blessed sunlight burns,
And one wind’s kiss their many leaflets stir.
While Winter’s grave each prouder bloom inurns,
Thou comest forth, the Spring’s first Harbinger;
Thy meek blue eye trustful to Heaven turns,
As if the high Stars thy companions were;
And are they not? God’s brotherhood are all
Obedient natures, whether they appear
In Heaven or Earth, unknown by great or small;
That is divine which filleth its own sphere;
Then blue-eyed floweret, trampled as thou art,
With reverent love I lay thee on my heart.
