---

James Stephens - The Daisies
Work rating: Medium

IN THE scented bud of the morning—O,  
  When the windy grass went rippling far,  
I saw my dear one walking slow,  
  In the field where the daisies are.  
  
We did not laugh and we did not speak          
  As we wandered happily to and fro;  
I kissed my dear on either cheek,  
  In the bud of the morning—O.  
  
A lark sang up from the breezy land,  
  A lark sang down from a cloud afar,          
And she and I went hand in hand  
  In the field where the daisies are.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.