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—
'The poppy makes me sleepy too,
So I will choose some other—
But these two flowers—what shall I do?
I want them both, my mother.'
'And I, my gentle child, want one,
And surely you 'll not grieve me,
And take the pretty ones—and none
But this dull poppy leave me.'
'No, mother—no—the rose is thine—
How sweet—here only breathe it;
—I choose the violet for mine,
—Because—it grew beneath it.'