How does the Meadow flower its bloom unfold? Because the lovely little flower is free down to its root, and in that freedom bold.
All that we behold is full of blessings.
The weight of sadness was in wonder lost.
But hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity.
Sad fancies do we then affect, In luxury of disrespect To our own prodigal excess Of too familiar happiness.
The very flowers are sacred to the poor.