Love Songs (1917)/Wild Asters

by Sara Teasdale

For other versions of this work, see Wild Asters.

 

WILD ASTERS

In the spring I asked the daisies
If his words were true,
And the clever, clear-eyed daisies
Always knew.

Now the fields are brown and barren,
Bitter autumn blows,
And of all the stupid asters
Not one knows.