The busy people pass all day;
They hurry, hurry, to and fro,
And hardly notice as they go
The wayside flowers, known so well
Whose names so few of them can tell...
O, if these people understood
Whats to be found by field and wood;
What fairy secrets are made plain
By any footpath, road, or lane--
They'd go with open eyes and look
And then at least they'd learn to see
How pretty common things can be!
-Cicely M. Barker
Posts
