WILLIAM BRIGHTY RANDS

The Flowers

��Love arose in heart and deed To wake the world to greater joy,

• What can she give me now ? ' said Greed,

Who thought to win some costly toy.

He rose, he ran, he stoop'd, he clutch'd ;

And soon the Flowers, that Love let fall, In Greed's hot grasp were fray'd and smutch'd,

And Greed said, ' Flowers ! Can this be all ? '

He flung them down and went his way, He cared no jot for thyme or rose j

But boys and girls came out to play,

And some took these and some took those

Red, blue, and white, and green and gold ;

And at their touch the dew returned, And all the bloom a thousandfold

So red, so ripe, the roses burn'd !

��The Thought

INTO the skies, one summer's day,

• I sent a little Thought away ;

Up to where, in the blue round, The sun sat shining without sound.

Then my Thought came back to me.

Little Thought, what did you see

In the regions whence you come ?

And when I spoke, my Thought was dumb.

904.

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