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11
And sad 'twould for the eagle be,
If like the mole, he could not see,
Unless you took his wings away,
And shut him from the hope of day.
But both live happy in their way—
One loves the night—and one the day—
And God formed each, and formed their sphere,
And thus his goodness doth appear.
CHOOSING THE FLOWER.
'I have a present, child, for thee,
A flower—you will not lose it,
Come choose you one from out these three,
And tell me why you choose it.'
'The poppy—O 't is beautiful;—
The brightest flower that blows—
But Mother—I had rather smell
A violet or rose—
