Classic Poem

On the hill and in the green,
Through the dewy meadow,
Underneath the feet of men,
In the sun and shadow,
Lo, she lifteth up her face
To each rival comer,—
Dandelion, crown and grace
Of the perfect Summer.

Who hath sent thee, starry one,
With thy faith and meekness,
And thy lessons to out-run
Thoughts of human weakness?
Who hath set thee in the way
Of the faint and weary,
Just to teach that beauty may
Bloom where all is dreary?

Who hath said: “O flower, go
To my sons and daughters,
Tell them there is room to grow,
Down by many waters;
That if crowded from the plain
To the lane and by-way,
They may lift their heads again,
Brave as on the highway.”

There is One who knoweth well
Human hearts are breaking,
Knoweth more than we can tell
Of their silent aching:
And along the rugged ways
Tender tokens giveth;
Starry witnesses give praise
That Our Father liveth.