Classic Poem

Why pluck their flowers? Each might have been
A ripe and luscious fruit,
When summer months had fully come,
And well the palate suit.

The birds might there have found a meal;
The children love their taste;
Why pluck and bring the useless flowers,
And thus God's bounty waste?

Thus sense doth plead; nor for a flower
A higher use can see,
Than that it may become a seed,
Or ripened berry be.

The poet, in its blossoms fair,
A nobler use can find;
Of which, who love the fruit alone
Are ignorant, and blind.

In their sweet fragrance he delights,
Their beauty fills his heart;
And he on others would bestow
What they to him impart.

Nor deems it loss to sacrifice
The low to higher need,
That thus what might but please the sense,
The mind and heart may feed.

Man's life is not for bread alone,
Nor worldly toil and gain;
For beauty doth the soul inspire
To reach a higher plane.

Enough God's bounty too has given
For all alike to share;
Nor only for our earthly wants,
But higher needs doth care.