TO A DAISY. 
BY WORDSWORTH. 
Bright flower, whose home is every where ! 
A pilgrim bold in Nature’s care, 
And oft, the long year through, the heir 
Of joy or sorrow ; 
Methinks that there abides in thee 
Some concord with humanity, 
Given to no other flower I see 
The forest through! 
And wherefore ? Man is soon deprest; 
A thoughtless thing who, once unblest. 
Does little on his memory rest, 
Or on his reason r 
But thou wouldst tea^h him how to find 
A shelter under every wind ; 
A hope for times that are unkind, 
And every season, 
42 
