The Flower

Once in a golden hour

    I cast to earth a seed.

Up there came a flower,

    The people said, a weed.

To and fro they went

    Thro' my garden bower,

And muttering discontent

    Cursed me and my flower.

Then it grew so tall

    It wore a crown of light,

But thieves from o'er the wall

    Stole the seed by night.

Sow'd it far and wide

    By every town and tower,

Till all the people cried,

    "Splendid is the flower!"

Read my little fable:

    He that runs may read.

Most can raise the flowers now,

    For all have got the seed.

And some are pretty enough,

    And some are poor indeed;

And now again the people

    Call it but a weed.