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.