Classic Poem

Wise man, wise man,
Where does the seed
Find all the color that
Blossoms need?

Each one after
Its own kind
Gets what it wants
Though small and blind.

Tulips gay and
Purple shower
Of dripping, pale
Wisteria flower.

Wise man, wise man,
Things that grow
Have some power that
You don't know.

And my garden's
Wiser far
Than your books and
Sermons are!

Wise man, wise man,
Come and see
The small green fruit
On my plum tree!