Life Begins
A fairy polished buttercups
One early Summer morn;
A skylark struggled thru his shell
He was there being born.
"Oh, dear," he cried, "What shall I do?
My house! It falls apart!"
All night long the cry had torn
His poor, wee skylark heart!
Crack! Crack! the shell kept breaking
Despair filled skylark's breast.
“Break thru, your house will fall on you!"
(Ah, soft and sheltered nest. . .)
The fairy wrung her tiny hands
And bowed her golden head;
She rocked with grief for skylark
And all earth's needless dread.
