A Meadow Song by Elizabeth Davies Flower poem

A little daisy in a meadow grew,
Kissed by the sunshine, and fed by the dew;
And gayly she sang to the passers-by,
"Was ever a daisy so happy as I?"

Then the clover, hearing the daisy's voice,
Began, in her own sweet way, to rejoice;
And softly sang, to the prettiest tune,
"What bliss to live and to grow in June!"

The violet peeped from her mossy bed,
And round her the sweetest fragrance shed,
Till far and near, on the summer air,
Floated the perfume, fresh and rare.

And the buttercup waked from a golden dream
To join in the grateful and joyous theme,
As daintily over the grass she stepped,
The fresher and sweeter from having slept.

The wild blue flag, with a laughing toss,
Spanned her color the green across;
"Ho! ho!" she cried. "Oh, how merry are we!"
Skipping along in her flowery glee.

The sweet-brier, growing beside the wall,
Quickly blossomed to hear the call,
And bent, with a gracious and royal mien,
At the jubilant cries of "Our queen! our queen!"

Then dandelion, golden head,
To follow where the others led,
Sung till the echoes, loud and long,
Resounded with her joyous song.

The cowslip rose, with a pleased surprise,
And, donning a robe of gorgeous dyes,
Sang in a voice so rich and sweet
The concert now was quite complete.

The meadow-lark, as he heard the song,
Sprung from his nest to greet the throng;
And, thrilled to his heart by the joyous lay,
Flew, singing, aloft, in the merriest way.

So, in the dewy meadow-grass,
Where all may listen as they pass,
Both bird and flower, in sweet attune,
Make happier all the days of June.