Classic Poem

To My Father on His Birthday

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I never see a roadside flower,
Without regretting its sad fate,
If some dull hand in idle hour,
Should cull and not appreciate!

Nature is wrong to thus create,
Fair buds that time or boors destroy;
For such gems none should desecrate,
But leave them to their transient joy.

So 'tis with thee, oh human rose,
Whene'er I see thee calm and great:
I think how life should spare thee woes,
And more thy value consecrate!English