Page:The Single Hound; poems of a lifetime.djvu/124

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E 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 red,

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.