The Field Daisy


I’m a pretty little thing,
Always coming with the spring;
In the meadows green I’m found,
Peeping just above the ground,
And my stalk is cover’d flat
With a white and yellow hat.

Little Mary, when you pass
Lightly o’er the tender grass,
Skip about, but do not tread
On my bright but lowly head,
For I always seem to say,
“Surely winter’s gone away.”


1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (3 votes, average: 4.33 out of 5)

The Field Daisy