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The Daisy.
What does the daisy see,
In the breezy meadow tossing?
It sees the wide blue overhead
And the little cloud-flocks crossing.
What does the daisy see,
'Round the sunny meadow glancing?
It sees the butterflies' chase,
And the filmy gnats at their dancing.
What does the daisy see,
Down in the grassy thickets?
The grasshoppers green and brown,
And the nimble, coal-black crickets.
It sees the bobolink's nest
That no one else can discover,
And the brooding mother-bird,
With the floating grass above her.
Edith M. Thomas.
