Page:Poems by Cushag.djvu/9

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THE cushag flower in a fairy bower
 * Would shine like a star of gold;

But when it grows in the farmer's close
 * 'Tis a shocking weed, we're told.
 * Yet common things
 * May have their wings
 * To help our souls above;
 * And wayside weeds,
 * Like kindly deeds,
 * Spring from a father's love.

The cushag flower had fairy power
 * In olden times, you know,

To bear you away on a summer's day
 * Wherever you wished to go.
 * Its golden wings
 * Were slender things
 * To carry souls aloft;
 * But fairy tales,
 * Like fresh'ning gales,
 * May have their uses oft.