And bitter waxed the fray; Brother with brother spake no word When they met in the way.
I have lived to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered.
There's no dew left on the daisies and clover; there's no rain left in heaven.
Her face betokened all things dear and good, The light of somewhat yet to come was there Asleep, and waiting for the opening day, When childish thoughts, like flowers would drift away.
O fateful flower beside the rill- The Daffodil, the daffodil!
The moon looks upon many night flowers; the night flowers see but one moon.