BUTTERCUP, POPPY, FORGET-ME-NOT.

Buttercup, Poppy, Forget-me-not,—

These three bloomed in a garden spot;

And once, all merry with song and play,

A little one heard three voices say:

“Shine or shadow, summer or spring,

O thou child with the tangled hair

And laughing eyes, we three shall bring

Each an offering, passing fair!”

The little one did not understand;

But they bent and kissed the dimpled hand.

Buttercup gambolled all day long,

Sharing the little one's mirth and song;

Then, stealing along on misty gleams,

Poppy came, bringing the sweetest dreams,

Playing and dreaming, that was all,

Till once the sleeper would not awake;

Kissing the little face under the pall,

We thought of the words the third flower spake,

And we found, betimes, in a hallowed spot,

The solace and peace of Forget-me-not.

Buttercup shareth the joy of day,

Glinting with gold the hours of play;

Bringeth the Poppy sweet repose,

When the hands would fold and the eyes would close.

And after it all,— the play and the sleep

Of a little life,— what cometh then?

To the hearts that ache and the eyes that weep,

A wee flower bringeth God's peace again:

Each one serveth its tender lot,—

Buttercup, Poppy, Forget-me-not.