Child-Fancies

Stood shyly forth and answered in her turn: "Pale violets I love,—and love full well Red poppies, which the elves for torches burn,— But for my own I choose—the asphodel."

Indignant stared the children; then they cried— Amid their pastime ready still for strife— "The asphodel! You only choose through pride A flower you never saw in all your life!"

Abashed, the culprit hung her pretty head, As she accusèd of a crime had been; Then, bravely, with conviction sweet she said:— "But I love best the flower I have not seen!"

Ah, wistful child! Such lonely dreams as thine Others have cherished in their hearts, I ween,— And, grateful for all good, with thee incline To love the best the flower they have not seen!

GATHERED WILD-FLOWERS I've brought you some flowers, mother! Please look at them, mother, look! See this one!—and here's another I found beside the brook!

They're very warm, for I held them tight; You'll want them, I know, to keep, When they wake again and you see them right,— But now they're all asleep.